


Restful Respite

by Tezzieh



Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Rek'yr is a thirsy mofo, but I enjoy writing this, not how s2 will go, polyship, war leader Rian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-01-02 10:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tezzieh/pseuds/Tezzieh
Summary: Just some BS and Poly Stuff that will never be in s2





	1. The Council

The first night, no one does much. They sit around their fires and talk in hushed tones. Rian is subdued and huddled into Gurjin’s side. The Drenchen and his twin speak softly to him, nothing is asked of him this night. Everyone understands he is worried for Deet.  
Seladon also keeps her silence. She sits by a fire, with Baffi in her lap. She stares into the flame, thinking of her mother and Maudra Fara. A paladin stands behind her, keeping watch over her.   
Brea sits with Kylan. He’s made her a special herb tea, to settle her nerves. They chatter about little nothings, trying not to think of what happened today. 

Everyone heads to bed early, retiring to tents or cottages. Rian finds the cottage he grew up in. Gurjin follows him past the doorstep. “Thank you, my friend.” Rian whispers. He can’t bear to be alone, which Gurjin knows.  
Seladon follows Baffi to Fara’s living quarters, insisting Brea come as well. A handful of Paladins station themselves outside the door.  
Naia joins Onica to stand her by in her grief. The two women stay close beside each other.

The following morning it is Rian to address the united clans. “Why isn’t Seladon up there?” Onica hisses to Naia. The Drenchen shrugs her broad shoulders. Beside her, Brea keeps her tongue. She knows her sister is too ashamed of her past behaviour. Seladon does not dare to face her people.   
“Gelfling! My People! Yesterday we began a rebellion. Yesterday we chose to face the Skeksis in battle. Life will not be easy, not a single day of it. But please do not lose your ways. Please continue to dance, make music and sing. But be aware, this is war.” He says loudly. Everyone gazes up at him in awe. This young castle guard changed into a war leader, almost overnight.   
“The Skeksis will not attack us right away, but when they do, I want us to be ready.” He says. “The Drenchen are always ready!” Shouts Maudra Laesid. “So are the Dousan.” Maudra Seethi adds her voice. “And the Spriton.” Maudra Mera will not be outdone. “And I am sure so are the Sifan and the Grottan, but we have all suffered losses and our balance is upended. We must not only patch up those holes, but also find our feet again.” Rian says, in a soothing tone of voice. 

“Today we send our dead back to Thra, tomorrow we set to work. We will train young warriors, fashion weapons and armour and strengthen clan bonds.” With that, Rian jumps from the dais. He gives no orders, but leads by example. He heads for where Maudra Fara has been laid to rest, with beside her Tavra and the other fallen. Seladon and Brea follow close behind him. Next come the Maudra’s and then Gurjin, Naia, Kylan and Onica.   
The deceased are picked up by Paladins of the Stonewood and Vapra clan, and carried to the Thronehall. Barely a tenth of all the gelfling present fit in, everyone that does not stands outside. Rian stands in front of Maudra Fara’s throne, looking down upon the deceased and those who mourn their loss. “Kylan, if you please.” He says. Kylan brings his Firca to his lips and begins the mournful tune. This time Rian begins the song. His voice is amplified by the large stone hall. No one makes a sound, save Kylan. The songteller knows well to keep playing. Even if he too, is enchanted by the vulnerable yet secure tone of Rian’s voice.   
Brea is the first to break her silence. She joins her voice to Rian’s. Gurjin, Naia and Onice are next and soon enough everyone joins in the song. The gelfling outside the hall begin to sing as well, as does Mother Augra. Never has there been a song of so many voices. 

The dead are laid to rest outside Stone-in-the-Wood, under flowery hills. Tavra and Maudra Fara are laid under the hill with the other late Maudra’s. 

“Thank you, Gelfling.” Rian says loudly. “Take today to overthink those we lost and to prepare for tonight’s feast, we will celebrate in their honour.” He ushers his people back to Stone-in-the-Wood.  
He turns to Gurjin. “Bring me the Hunter’s mask, please.” He says. “Of course.” Gurjin replies, with a curt nod. He turges into the village to retrieve the fallen Skesis’ garb. Most of it will be burned, but he suspects Rian is planning something with the mask. The thing is huge even to the Drenchen, made of a weighty metal. He has to cradle the thing in his arms like an infant. The rest of the garb he just piles on top.  
Rian looks pleased when Gurjin presents him the skull. The other garb the Drenchen has already been dumped in the burning pit. “So what do you want with this?” Gurjin asks, holding the large mask out to his friend. “I think I might hang it above the fireplace in our cottage.” Rian takes the immense piece of armour and almost drops it again, because of the weight. Gurjin’s hands meet his own, steadying him. “Don’t put a dent in the stones.” He says with a small smirk. Rian can’t help a bit a laughter, despite his mood. “I think you should give this to Mother Aughra.” Gurjin says. Rian makes a thoughtful little noise. 

“Mother Aughra, Mother Aughra!” The Old crone looks up from her ponderings. She finds Rian and Gurjin by her side. Rian is tugging at her dress like a childling would and Gurjin stands beside him, his arms full of Skeksis armour. She recognises the Hunter’s mask. “We want you to have this.” Rian gestures to the mask. Aughra looks at it for a long moment. Then she shakes her head. “I don’t want it, keep it.” She says curtly. “Y-yes mother Aughra.” Rian stammers. He turns away from Aughra, putting his hand on Gurjin’s arm. “Come.” He says softly.  
Gurjin follows Rian to the cottage they share. He puts the mask on the large wooden table. “You give that a place, I’ll start the preps for tonight. I’ll see you out when you are ready.” He says to Rian. Rian turns to the Drenchen and gives a small nod. Gurjin tucks a blue strand of hair behind Rian’s ear. Rian’s ears turn red and droop a little. 

Gurjin heads out to oversee the preparations, dishing out a good order or two here and there. Even the Vapran do as he asks this time. 

That night all Gelfling are gathered to eat and drink, around long trestle tables and cooking fires. The clans are all mixed, Drenchen drinks with Vapran and Spriton sits trading jokes with Dousan.   
Kylan tells song after song and his Firca barely sits still. There are Sifan telling tales of the high seas. Bobb’N and the other Grot children are listening breathlessly. Brea spots Juni and her Spriton boy sitting closely side by side. Naia is boasting of her battle prowess to several Dousan women and Gurjin is being felt up by a Sifan gelling.   
Rian and Brea sit beside each other, silently. They are comfortable with that, knowing each of them has their own griefs and pains. Grief and pains they can only handle themselves.

Seladon sits alone, gazing into her soup as if she is trying to make sense of it. “You should eat something.” She looks up. She looks into pale eyes, which could be pale green or pale yellow, she is not sure. It is the paladin that gave her a leg up during the fight. He’s taken off his paladin garb, he is dressed in borrowed Stonewood garb, which somehow makes him look out of sorts. It is as though grey is the only colour she could think that suits him.  
“Paladin, are you off duty?” Seladon asks him tentatively. “Please, All Maudra, call me Maurix, for it is the name my mother gave me upon my birth.” He says gently to her. “Then you ought to call me Seladon.” She replies. “Y-yes Seladon…” Maurix replies. He pronounces her name like he is tasting tasting it, letting it slide past his tongue. Seladon feels gooseflesh rise up her arms and down her spine. As though the Paladin had just ran his tongue over the shell of her ear. She flusters and peers into her soup.

On the third day, Stone-in-the-Wood is positively an anthill with all it’s activity. Not a single gelfling is setting still. Even Bobb’N and the Grot childlings are trying to help. 

The Red Paladin stands guard just outside Stone-in-the-Wood. There is a disturbance in the woods. He stands from the rock he has been sitting on and readies his spear. “Who goes there?” He cries out. There comes no answer, only more rustling of leaves and breaking of branches. And it comes ever closer. Maurix steels himself, ready for a fight.   
But what comes through the line of young trees surprises him quite some. He recognises the stone creature Lore. “My Thra…” He mutters. On the creature’s neck sits an oddly well groomed Podling. “What is the meaning of this!” Maurix asks aloud. Lore rumbles at the Paladin. “Hup back!” Calls the Podling from the stone giant’s back.   
“Pardon the sudden intrusion.” A Dousan steps forth from behind the stone creature. He is a gelling with a fierce and prideful look in his yellow eyes. “State your purpose here.” Maurix flares up, pointing his spear at the Dousan. Despite the unifications of the clans, old prejudices die hard, especially those against the very mysterious Dousan.   
“I’ll escort you to the All Maudra now.” Maurix says. “Very well.” The Dousan nods. He turns to Lore. “Come, we will find the Princess and the Podling’s friend.” He says. “We’ll see about that.” Maurix replies. He shepherds the three into Stone-in-the-Wood.

“Where is the All Maudra?” Maurix asks an older Paladin. “She wishes not to be disturbed.” It is Mother Aughra to answer. Maurix bows for the crone. “Then what am I to do with these three.” He gestures to Lore, Hup and the Dousan. Mother Aughra travels her eye over them. “Bring these two to Rian, the stones will stay here.” She says. “Yes, Mother Aughra.” Maurix says with a curt nod.  
The Dousan helps the Podling down. “Very well, it seems Rian is the next best, come on you two.” Maurix gestures. Podling and gelling follow him to the stone hall. 

Within, Rian, Gurjin, Kylan and Naia are setting up a huge ornate table and majestic chairs. Maurix smashes the butt of his spear against the flagstone floor. The Stonewood, Spriton and both Drenchen look up. “I was told to bring these two to you.” He says.   
Rian comes over. “Hup!” He shouts, lifting the Podling clean off of his feet and hugging him tight. Hup hugs Rian back happily. “Hey, isn’t that Rek’yr?” Asks Gurjin. “That is very correct.” The Dousan gives the Drenchen an acknowledging nod. “We were already looking for you between the Dousan ranks, but you were not there.” Says Kylan. “The Hunter held me up.” Rek’yr replies. He turns his head to the side, showing an ugly wound on his temple. “You should get that looked at.” Naia says gently.   
“Kylan, could you bring Rek’yr to Onica, she will see to the wound.” Rian asks. “Of course. Follow me please.” Kylan gestures for Rek’yr to come with. The Dousan follows the Spriton out. 

Hup tugs at Rian’s doublet. “Where Deet?” He asks. Rian’s ears droop. “She … she went away.” He mutters. Gurjin and Naia both move towards him. Gurjin places a hand on Rian’s shoulder, sending him a minute nod. “Deet took a lot of the blight inside her.. She went away to keep the blight away from us.” It is the first time he has said it out loud. He’s shared the memory with Gurjin already, but Naia does not know. She gives Rian a troubled look. “Deet locked herself away behind thorns, I can’t bring you to her.” Rian says to Hup. Hup promptly begins to cry.  
Rian heaves a sigh. “Please bring him to Brea.” He asks of Maurix. “But .. I have been away from my post for too long already.” Maurix begins to protest. “Go back to your post then, Paladin. I will escort the Podling.” Naia says. Maurix nods curtly and takes his leave. Naia takes Hup gently by his shoulder and bring him out of the hall.

Brea sits with Onica, hearing her out about healing plants and spells. She is meticulously writing down what she is told. The Sifan elder is quite happy to regale everything she knows to such a willing ear.  
“Princess Brea, Elder Onica, can I have a moment of your time.” Kylan interrupts them as politely as he can. Brea and Onica look up from their conversation. Kylan gives both of them a nod in greeting. “I have a patient or you, Elder Onica.” He says. He brings their attention to Rek’yr, with a gesture of his hand. Brea drops her pen and gasps. “Rek’yr.” She jumps up from her stool, the small piece of furniture tumbling over into the grass. Rek’yr bows for her. “Princess, what an indescribable pleasure to see your radiant presence again.” He cooes.   
“Make him sit down and let me look at that wound.” Onica orders.   
Brea retrieves her stool, setting it upright. “Please sit down.” She says to Rek’yr. “Of course, my lady.” The Dousan obliges. “Brea, would you mind getting me a bowl of warm water and a clean rag, please?” Asks Onica. “Right away.” Brea nods and quickly gets Onica what she has asked for.

Onica is cleaning Rek’yr’s wound when Maurix arrives with Hup. “Hup!” Brea cries out. She runs to the Podling and lifts him clean off the ground. She notices Hup has been crying. “Oh Hup, I am so sorry Deet is not here.” She says softly. She puts the Podling down and looks down on him. “I am ever so sorry. We will find her, I promise.” She says. Hup sits down where he stands and begins to sob again.  
“He was so eager to see his friend again.” Says Rek’yr. “I know, Hup loves Deet so purely.” Brea kneels beside the Podling, not caring for the grass stains that will surely show on her dress later. She puts her arms around Hup and humms softly to him. Rek’yr perks his ears forward to hear her better. 

In the evening the gelfling take their dinner in large groups. There is a table full with warriors, from every clan, boasting about their battle prowess. A table with song tellers who discuss specific songs and myths and how to perform them correctly. A table that seats only young women that giggle and gossip.  
Rian sits with his friends and all six Maudra’s. Rek’yr sits with them as well, beside Maudra Seethi. And Hub, close by Brea’s side. Onica and Naia sit beside each other, discussing sparkly water. Naia vehemently insist sparkly water is just still water but angry.   
The Maudra’s and Rian are discussing what needs to be done in the coming time. “The Drenchen will return to Great Smert, we can easily defend ourselves there.” Says Laesid.”And the Dousan to the desert, the Skeksis don’t come there.” Seethi adds. “The Sifan will take to their ships, only SkekSa sails and she hasn’t been seen in a great many Thrine.” Ethri agrees. Rian nods. “Very well, then only the Grottan, Vapran and Spriton will remain in Stone-in-the-Wood.” He concludes.   
“That many gelfling will never fit in Stone-in-the-Wood.” Seladon says. It is the first time she has put something in. “No, it never will.” Rian agrees. “I will take the Spriton back to Sami Thicket. And also the elderly and childlings with their mothers, but I will need the strongest Vapran warrior to strengthen Sami Thicket.” Says Maudra Mera. She looks at Seladon. “You will have them.” Seladon agrees curtly. “That leaves only that fighting aged Vapran, the Grottan and what is left of the Stonewoods.” Brea says to Rian. “That is managable.” Rian says. His ears droop a little. Something doesn’t sit right with him.  
“I will appoint Naia as my representative on the War Council.” Laesid says. “Thank you mother.” Naia gives her mother a minute nod. “I appoint Elder Onica.” Maudra Ethri adds. Onica and Naia share a small smile. “Rek’yr will stay on as my representative on the War Council.” Maudra Seethi speaks. Rek’yr nods to her gratefully.Naturally he would to stay, small surprise there. “My representative shall be Kylan.” Maudra Mera says. “B-but Maudra Mera, I know nothing of war.” Kylan sputters. “You have proven yourself a hero, Kylan. And you know the other council members, which is important as well.” Maudra Mera smiles at him indulgently. Kylan’s ears turn red as fire. “T-thank you Maudra.” He mutters.   
The following morning, the Dousan are the first to leave. Rian and Rek’yr see them off with a lot of formal Dousan fare-thee-wells that Rek’yr has hissed in Rian’s ear. It is still pretty early and Rian hasn’t really gotten the chance to rub the sleep from his eyes. Heck, he has half a mind to go back to bed, to warm embrace of a certain Drenchen.  
The Sifan leave after the communal breakfast. Onica whispers the correct fare-thee-wells in Rian’s ear. Rian by now has the chance to whip himself into some shape and drag a comb through his hair.  
The Spriton leave a little past noon, with a good portion of the Vapran paladins. Seladon and Kylan both whisper in Rian’s ear. Rian is in his leathers, his hair bunned up and a streak of soot across his cheek. He’s been training. And a little too close to the remainders of a fire pit.  
Last to leave are the Drenchen. Laesid hugs her daughter tightly. “Don’t forget what I taught you, this is the time to use it.” She says. “Yes Mother.” Naia says softly. Laesid then takes her son into her arms. Gurjin noses at her hair, drinking in her scent, that means so much as home to him.   
“Now you listen here boy.” Laesid takes a minute step back, her hands still on Gurjin’s broad shoulders. “You do what your father taught you. And look after this here Stonewood.” She says. Gurjin gives his mother a wide smile. “I will mother. I will do what I’ve always done. I have kept Naia safe and I will do the same for Rian.” He says. “There is a good lad.” Laesid pats her only son on his cheek. The twins hug Bellanji farewell and say their goodbye’s to the Drenchen warriors they know closely. Rian seems to have perked up now.

Rian turns to his friends. “Go do your own thing for a while, I have something to arrange.” He says. Naia and Onica head off together. Brea skips off, dragging Kylan along by his wrist. Rek’yr bows for Seladon and Rian and calmly saunters off in the same direction as Brea. “I’ll wait for you where you told me to meet you.” Gurjin says to Rian. He calmly trails off, back to the center of the village.  
Rian turns to Seladon. “All Maudra… I would advise you choose a representative for the war council as well, so you can focus on the more societal aspect of the gouvernance, a lot of changes shall have to be made.” He says, sounding rather shy. He doesn’t want to seem like he is giving the All Maudra orders. But Seladon regards him with a gentle expression. “Very well, what sort of person are you looking for?” She asks Rian. Rian makes a thoughtful noise. “A warrior with battle experience, with a strategic mind and courage.” He replies.   
“I know one like that.” Says Maurix. “Now don’t get ahead of yourself.” Seladon chides gently. “Not me, All Maudra. But I know just the gelling.” Says the Paladin. There is a small smirk on his lips. “Very well, go retrieve him.” Seladon says.

Maurix returns swiftly. It is the Paladin who lost his eye he is bringing along. “All Maudra, Rian, this is Betram, I think he has earned his seat.” Maurix says. Betram bows for Seladon and gives Rian a nod in greeting. “Betram, how would you like a seat on the war council?” Asks Seladon. Betram looks surprised. “I .. it would be an honour, All Maudra.” He says. “Wonderful.” Seladon smiles.


	2. Puncture Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be smut, but it turned into something different.

Rian returns to his cottage rather late. All three brothers have already gone to the other side of Thra. Gurjin is sitting cross legged in the window alcove, a small black and grey fizzgig in his lap. “Good evening.” He cooes. Rian flops down in the armchair closest by the fire, heaving a big sigh. Gurjin slips from the window alcove, putting down his new fuzzy friend.   
“Are you alright?” He asks, putting his hands on Rian’s shoulders. Rian looks up at him. “It was quite a day.” He mutters. Gurjin begins to gently knead Rian’s shoulders. “Wana talk about it?” He cooes. “Not now.” Rian shakes his head. “How about you relax some then?” Gurjin murmurs. Rian’s ears perk up. He recognises no little amount of mischief in Gurjin’s voice. 

“Okay, what you planning?” Rian asks.

He startles, moaning loudly, when Gurjin nips at his ear. “Oh you know quite well what I am planning.” Gurjin purrs. His lips trail over the top of Rian’s ear. Rian feels like his spine is melting. “That is right, lean right into it.” Gurjin draws away, but his hands remain on Rian’s shoulders. Rian whines at the loss. “So greedy.” Gurjin chuckles. He starts to massage Rian’s tense shoulders. Rian closes his eyes and leans into the ministrations.   
Once the tension is out of Rian’s shoulders, Gurjin is back at it. His breath pours over the shell of Rian’s ear. Rian can’t help a lusty ‘aaaah’ from pouring from his lips. “You like your ears worshipped, don’t you?” Gurjin cooed huskily. “Stop it you.” Rian huffs. Gurjin pulls back, taking his hands off of Rian’s shoulders as well. Rian looks up. “Hey, don’t stop!” He says. Gurjin laughs. “But you just told me to stop.” He retrotts in a teasing voice. “You know I did not mean it.” Rian hangs his ears. “I do, but I prefer if you tell me not to stop.” Gurjin says.  
The Drenchen walks around the armchair. He kneels in front of Rian. He extends a hand to caress the Stonewood’s cheek. Rian looks down on Gurjin, smiling wainly at him. “Come to bed with me.” Gurjin says gently. 

Gurjin stands and heads to to the alcove of their bed. It smells of them. It smells of their sex. It smells good, it is their home. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at Rian. “Come here.” He says. Rian obliges, standing from his chair and going to the bed. Gurjin draws him closer, until Rian stands between the Drenchen’s knees. Rian rests his chin on Gurjin’s dreads and braids and puts his arms around Gurjin’s shoulders. Gurjin noses against Rian’s chest. “Hmmm, you smell good.” Gurjin mutters. “You do too. You smell like Thra.” Rian replies. “What does Thra smell like?” Gurjin asks.   
Absentmindedly Rian plays with a stray strand of Gurjin’s hair. “Like the soil and the trees and the wind and the waters.” He mutters. “Sounds like I smell unwashed.” Gurjin chuckles. “No, you don’t.” Rian replies. He sits down on Gurjin’s wide thigh. “It is the best smell I know.” He says softly. 

Gurjin cups Rian’s cheek and draws him closer for a soft, slow kiss. It is tender and warm and Rian melts into it. He cards his fingers into Gurjin’s hair. Gurjin groans softly when Rian scrapes his nails over his scalp. His hands run up the Stonewood’s thighs. They groan into each other’s mouth. Rian does his best to press himself as close to Gurjin’s warm broad torso as he can. Gurjin’s hands trail from Rian’s thighs to his waist.  
Rian topples Gurjin over. Gurjin falls upon the sheets, drawing Rian down with him. Their kiss does not break for a single second. Gurjin’s hands rush up to Rian’s back. They bunch in Rian’s doublet. The Drenchen surges forward and the kiss deepens. Rian moans in response. Gurjin’s tongue breaks into Rian’s mouth. Rian moans again, louder this time. 

They make out for a good while, clinging to each other with quite some desperation.

Gurjin is slowly working Rian out of his clothes. Rian sits upright, straddling Gurjin’s crotch. “This is not fair.” The disheveled Stonewood says. Gurjin looks up at him. Rian is undressed safe for his breeches. He is an absolute feast for the eyes. “It might not be fair, but I sure enjoy the view.” Gurjin teases. Rian peers down on his best friend.   
“It is my turn to enjoy the view, though.” Rian says. He rolls off of Gurjin, into the cushions. He rubs his shoulder against Gurjin’s. Gurjin turns his face to Rian. “How would you like that?” He asks. Rian makes a thoughtful little noise. “Strip for me.” He says. “Very well.” Gurjin get’s up from the bed. Rian looks up at Gurjin, appreciating the broad and tall form of the Drenchen. 

Gurjin unhurriedly draws as strings that fasten his leather jacket. Rian sits upright, sitting cross legged, as though he is going to meditate. He spectates as Gurjin calmly takes off his jacket, hanging it away. Under the jacket he is wearing a light cloth jerkin, it is a drab dark brown, but hangs off of the plates of Gurjin’s chest like an absolute sin. Rian gives the piece of clothing a look as though it is his mortal enemy. Gurjin chuckles and turns his back to Rian.  
Gurjin pulls the jerkin over his head. The muscles of his back are ethereal. Rian feels the yearning boil in his blood. He wanders his hungry eyes over every curve of muscle. Just below Gurjin’s shoulder blades, peeking out from between Gurjin’s dreads and braids. Rian quickly rises to his feet and goes over to Gurjin. He brushes the braids and dreads aside. Gooseflesh pimples Gurjin’s spine. Rian leans in to inspect the pink scars. They are circular, six in total, three under each shoulder. Realisation chokes Rian off.   
Rian runs his thumb over one of the round scars, they are barely the size of the pad of his pinky finger. Gurjin shudders in reaction to his touch. “Do they hurt?” Rian asks. Gurjin shakes his head. “They get cold more easily and itch sometimes, but no pain.” He replies. There is something unspoken between the two gellings. There is a heavy knowledge between them. The knowledge that Gurjin survived which killed Mira. The knowledge that Gurjin has been there and lived to tell the tale. Except it is not a tale he wants to tell.

“Will you ever show me?” Rian asks. 

Gurjin hesitates for a brief moment. He knows how open Rian is in his own pain. He’s shared the memory of Mira’s death, so easily and without an ounce of reservation. But still Gurjin is not sure if he should share that one memory that makes him break out in a cold sweat. He tries so purposefully not to think of it, because it represents so much evil. He does not want Rian to have that pain, to feel what it is like.   
“Not now. Later, alright?” Gurjin turns to Rian. His large hands cup both sides of Rian’s face. They share a fierce kiss. A single kiss in which their feelings are laid bare. Not only the feelings they have for each other, the loyalty and the blind trust. But also the feeling they have about their current predicament, fear and courage. For a brief moment it is not quite clear where Rian begins and Gurjin ends.   
Rian breaks away, out of breath. He is overwhelmed by what he feels. What he feels for Gurjin, what he feels about Mira’s death, Deet’s departure and the current goings on. Gurjin slowly let’s go of Rian’s face. He too is panting loudly. “I love you.” He whispers. Rian’s ears turn warm and bright red. It is the first time Gurjin has actually said it out loud. Rian’s known it for a good long while now, but it just hasn’t been vocalised between them before. Rian takes a deep breath in. It is on the tip of tongue. But there is something holding him back. Someone, rather. And it is not like he wouldn’t mean it if he said it. Because he would. And he does, he full heartedly loves Gurjin. But there is such pain in his mind when he thinks of saying it. Pain that is completely and utterly tied to Deet. Deet and the feelings he has for her. Feelings he will not deny. 

“It’s alright you know.” Gurjin says softly. Rian smiles wainly. He is very glad his lover understands him so well. He closes the distance between them, nosing his face into Gurjin’s chest. “Thank you.” He whispers. “No need to thank me.” Gurjin murrs. He puts his arms around Rian and noses at his hair.   
“Time to go to bed, I think you should sleep.” He says softly. Rian nods against his chest. Gurjin tightens his grip a little bit and lifts Rian off his feet, waddling back to the bed. He plops Rian down on the bed and draws down the Stonewood’s breeches. He then shirks his own and crawls in as well. Rian curls against Gurjin. Gurjin puts his arms around him and nuzzles his face into his hair. 

The two gellings nod off almost at once.

In the morning, Rian wakes up first. Rays of the suns stream through the windows of the cottage. He is safely encased in Gurjin’s arms. It is warm and comfortable and Rian does not want to get out of bed yet. But nature calls and not unsoftly. So he struggles from his lover’s arms and slips out of bed. Gurjin does not even wake up. The Drenchen is quite a heavy sleeper.   
Rian slips into his breeches, after having made sure they are not Gurjin’s and toes out of the cottage, to the outhouse. Gelfling left and right greet him on his hurried way there. Rian yells his greetings back.   
After he has made his water, he washes his hands in the river and goes back to the village. Most of his friends are already up. He spots Brea and Kylan by a table fused in a thick tree trunk. Hup is with them as well, gazing into his porridge. Both Kylan and Brea are trying to encourage him to eat. Rian goes over, placing a hand on Hup’s shoulder. Hup looks up at him. His eyes are red, he is still so distraught about Deet’s departure.   
“Not eating is not going to bring her back, my friend.” Says Rian softly. “But, Hup miss Deet.” The Podling whines. “We all miss her, Hup.” Brea cooes. “But if you don’t eat, you won’t be strong to help us bring her back.” Kylan adds. Rian nods. “They are right, we want you to remain strong.” He says to Hup. Hup heaves a sigh and picks up his spoon. With some determination he begins to shovel porridge into his mouth. 

“You look sort of disheveled, are you alright?” Kylan asks. “Just came out of bed.” Rian answers. “Had a wild night?” Kylan teases. Rian shakes his head. “If only.” Rian rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you get yourself back into shape, we’ll get you some breakfast.” Brea cooes. “Don’t hurry on my account.” Rian replies.

Rian heads back to his cottage.

Gurjin is still vast asleep. “Time to wake the Drenchen…” Rian mumbles to himself. He goes over to the bed alcove. “Gurjin, wake up.” He says. He leans over and gently shakes Gurjin’s shoulder. The Drenchen only reacts with a gentle snore. Rian shakes him a bit more firmly. Gurjin still does not wake up. This calls for drastic measures. Rian leans over at nips at the tip of Gurjin’s ear. The Drenchen wakes up with a husky groan.   
“Is it that time already.” He rolls onto his back, pulling Rian down to him. His body is warm and his skin soft and supple from sleep. Rian is faintly tempted to let him have it. But there is much to do. He can’t give in to Gurjin’s allure now. “Come on, get up.” Rian wriggles free from Gurjin’s loose embrace. Gurjin groans. “Must I?” He asks, throwing an arm over his face. “Yes come on, we are going to have a bath and get dressed. We have a resistance to organise.” Rian says, putting his hands on his hips. Gurjin groans again. “Fine..” He huffs.  
The Drenchen gets out of bed, standing up in his full impressive height. Rian can’t help but venture his eyes to Gurjin’s impressive morning wood. But he mentally chides himself and ventures his eyes back to Gurjin’s face. “Come, grab two towels.” He says. Gurjin shrugs his broad shoulders and grabs two large finely spun towels. One his ties around his perfectly sculpted hips. The other he hands to Rian. “Lose the breeches, let’s get wet.” He says, strutting out of the cottage door as though he is not all but naked. Rian shirks his own breeches, pulls his towel around his waist and follows Gurjin out.

The bath house is all but deserted. There are a few paladins soaking, but that is about it. Gurjin and Rian drop their towels and sink down into the hot water. But they don’t soak long. They wash up and dry off.

Once back at their cottage, Gurjin attacks Rian’s hair with a brush. “We ought to look our best today.” He says, drawing the brush through Rian’s still moist hair. In Rian’s experience, wet hair does not really brush out. But somehow the Drenchen knows how to do it perfectly. He brushes until Rian’s hair shines like polished leather.   
Gurjin braids back the front strands of Rian’s hair back, securing them with a silver clip. A clip that has doubtlessly been Ordon’s, quite a while past. “Now dress yourself nicely, yes.” He gives Rian a pat on the ass and walks over to wardrobe. He gathers his best set of clothes and swiftly gets dressed.   
He’s put on dark grey leather breeches, a shade so grey they almost seem blue. His jerkin is white and over he wears a dark blue green doublet, embroidered with poisonous green scroll work that marks him as the son of the Drenchen’s Maudra, it is a family piece. His Drenchen specific boots are black as coal.   
He walks over to the looking glass and paints, with a special dark blue clay, three dots under his left eye. He turns to Rian, who is half dressed. “Well, what do you think?” He asks. Rian looks up from lacing up his boots. “You look … Like royalty.” He says. And then he remembers Gurjin is the son of a Maudra. “Never mind, you are…” He mutters.

Rian finishes dressing too. His breeches are black leather. He too is wearing a white jerkin, with over it a dark blue doublet. It has white embroidery, giving him a slightly Vapran look, but it suits him. “You look great. Let’s set up that rebellion, now shall we.” Gurjin says calmly. 

With intertwined fingers, Gurjin and Rian head towards the general eating area in the clearing of Stone-in-the-Wood. They sit down opposite Brea and Kylan. “There they are, all clean and handsome.” Says Brea with a small smile. “Oh stop it you.” Gurjin says, but there is a grin on his face. “You two look like you are important.” Kylan remarks. “We are important, Rian is the symbol of our resistance and I am his best friend.” Gurjin says. Rian, as well as Brea, begins to laugh. “You are not just his best friend, though, you are a Drenchen Prince. And his lover.” Kylan says.   
Soon Naia sits with them as well. She is wearing a dress for a change. An aquamarine piece with a rather low cut. Neither Rian nor Kylan can help making wide eyes at it. Naia gives her best friend a shove and he tumbles from his high stool. “Is that the dress ma made you?” Asks Gurjin. “That very dress. I mean to make an impression.” Naia sits down on Kylan’s stool. Kylan pouts at her and takes the stool on her side. 

Seladon approaches Rian, a little bit later. Rian is trying to convince Hup from going into the woods to find Deet. “Can I have a moment, please.” Seladon asks. “Yeah, sure..” Says Rian with some hesitation. “I’ll handle the podling.” On swift feet Maurix comes to them, grabbing Hup by his shoulder when he tries to make off.   
“Walk with me please.” Seladon says. “Yes, All Maudra.” Rian says obediently. Seladon holds out her arm, for him to take. He does this, with a bit of a stiff gesture. Seladon leads Rian away from the clearing. “I have been meaning to ask you this, as more of a formality, but still. Rian, would you be the head of the war council and leader to what is left of the Stonewood tribe?” She asks him, without much further ado. “But, I am gelling, only gelf’s can be clan leaders.” Rian all but exclaims. “You have proven yourself Rian and appointing a new Maudra to a tribe that counts maybe two score gelfling is effort we cannot spare, we have better things to do.” Seladon retrotts. Rian hangs his ears, feeling like the All Maudra has scolded him. “In that case, it would be my honour.” He says gently. “Good, that is arranged, then.” Seladon says. “Now run along and call the council, I want you well and established as soon as I can.” She tells him.

She watches him rush back to the village. Faintly, in the back of her mind, she feels guilt. She is passing on her duty as active leader to Rian. She is too afraid to do it herself, so she unloads the burden onto Rian. Rian, who just seems so much more suited than she does. Rian who does not crack under pressure, unlike she.

Rian calls the council. Or rather, he invites each individual council member personally. They are all asked to come to the throne room. Gurjin, Naia, Rek’yr, Brea, Kylan, Onica, the Paladin with the eyepatch and Seladon are invited, as well as a Stonewood guard, whom Rian remembers has apprenticed with Ordon for a while. Her name is Asgred.   
Rian personally escorts Maudra Argot to the throne room. Maurix closes the doors behind them and stands centry outside. Rian helps Maudra Agrot to her seat and stands in front of Maudra Fara’s stone throne. 

Seladon stands and calls for silence. “Council members, today I ask but one thing of you.” She begins. All the council members turn to look at her. “I ask of you that you accept Rian not only as the leader of this council, but also as leader of the Stonewood clan.” She says. All heads turn to Rian. The Stonewood tried to look as regal as he can. Luckily his clothes and the way Gurjin did his hair helps him some way. “But he is a gelling, only females can be Maudra.” It is Kylan who speaks up, but without real objection in his voice. “I won’t be Maudra, I am not a gelf.” Rian answers gently. “The Stonewood clan has thinned considerably. Two score gelfling are few and I have seen the leadership Rian has naturally.” Seladon’s voice holds some note of finality in it. “He will not be the Stonewood Maudra, he will be the Stone-in-the-Wood General.” She says.   
Rian audibly gasps. “Your father would have been proud.” Says Maudra Argot. “Yes, he would have been.” Rian agrees.   
“On behalf of my fellow Stonewood, I accept Rian as Stone-in-the-Wood and as leader of this council.” Says Asgred. “Thank you Asgred.” Says Seladon. She sits back down. “Thank you, Asgred, for your faith in me.” Says Rian gently. He takes his seat, where once Maudra Fara sat.   
“On behalf of my fellow Drenchen, I accept Rian as leader of this council.” Naia says. Gurjin nods in agreement and Rian smiles widely at the twins. “On behalf of my fellow Dousan, I accept Rian as leader of this council.” Rek’yr speaks calmly. “Thank you, sandmaster.” Rian is still a bit reserved towards the Dousan gelling, but he is glad to have his vote. “On behalf of my fellow Sifan, I accept Rian as leader of this council.” Says Onice. Rian gives her a smile and a nod.  
“On behalf of the Spriton clan, I accept Rian as the leader of this council.” Says Kylan. “Thank you, my friend.” Rian says to him. “The Grottan accept Rian as leader of this council as well.” Maudra Argot adds. Brea and Seladon exchange a look. Seladon nods to Brea. “Oh behalf of the Vapra clan and the All Maudra, I accept Rian as leader of the council and as General of Stone-in-the-Wood.” Brea says. “Are there any objections?” Seladon asks. “If there are, I’ll break their nose.” Gurjin growls. “There are none.” Says Bertram. “Very well.” Seladon says. 

“For our first meeting I would like to know if everyone is settled into cottages of their liking.” Rian decides to start of well right away. “Most of them are, there are a few vapran’s who wish they had more luxury cottages.” Says Bertram. “But they already have cottages, right?” Asks Rian. “Yes, my lord, everyone has a roof over their head.” Bertram replies. “Most cottages in Stone-in-the-Wood are of equal luxury, two of three have a bit more room, for the bigger families or the Maudra. They are, I take it, given to families who use the space.” Rian looks at Bertram. “Of course my lord. And Maudra Fara’s cottage is the All Maudra’s now.” Bertram affirms. “That is that then. If there are any further complaints about housing, please refer them to Gurjin.” Says Rian calmly. “Of course, my lord.” Bertram nods.  
“Is there anything else we should discuss today?” Rian looks to each council member in turn. “I think we should strip Ha’rar.” Says Brea. Everyone turns to her. “We should go there and gather everything the Skeksis might be able to use against us. Harvest all the crops now, gather all the usable seeds to plant here or in Sami Thicket.” Brea explains. “But, have you any idea how many books there are in Ha’rar.” Seladon tells her. “Books the Skeksis doubtlessly have as well. I doubt those are of interest to them.” Says Rek’yr calmly. “I only need ten or twenty, you know, just the useful one’s.” Brea says angelically.  
“Surmising, we ought to go to Ha’rar to harvest the crop and grabs what we can use.” Naia says, before the sisters and break out into a squabble. “That is not going to be an easy mission.” Kylan mutters, only just audible. “No, we are going to need a lot of people and a lot of carts.” Rian says. “We can send someone to Sami Thicket to gather people and carts.” Asgred suggests. “Spritons might be hard workers, but are they strong enough to haul everything from Ha’rar to here?” Naia brings up. “Drenchen are stronger, that was the journey will go quicker and you will need to send fewer paladins.” Gurjin adds. Rian makes a thoughtful noise. “I .. I can send for Drenchen to go to Ha’rar, but also for carts from Sami Thicket, Stone-in-the-Wood never has enough for all of Ha’rar to be emptied out.” He says. “I’ll go.” Gurjin says. Rian gives him a startled look. “Naia has to stay on the council, I am only other Drenchen here, they will come with me.” Gurjin tells him. Rian can only nod in response.

“Is that all?” Rian asks, his tone slightly insecure. “Trade routes.” Bertram barks. The council members give him a slightly put off look. “What is with the Trade Routes, Bretram?” Rian asks patiently. “They are not safe, the traders cannot venture between the bigger towns without risking being attacked by the Skeksis or whatever they plan to throw at us.” Bertram replies. “You are right.” Rian nods. “We can post sentries around the routes.” Says Brea, sounding slightly sheepishly. “That would cost us way too much fighters. I think it is better if we assign guards to trade caravans.” Asgred brings up. “Yes, that is a great idea. I’ll send runners to every Maudra to tell them not to let anyone travel alone anymore.” Rian agrees.  
“You should also send a scout to Ha’rar.” Seladon says, suddenly. “To see if the Skeksis have already been there and to see if it is safe?” Rian asks. Seladon nods in affirmation. “Very well. Eight footmen and two warriors.” Rian mutters. “Did you get that?” Seladon asks Brea. “Yeah I did.” Brea says, pointing at the scroll in front of her. “Very well, I think that concludes our meeting.” Seladon purrs. “Well, not quite.” Rian says. “Gurjin goes to Great Smerth, so he can choose someone to come with him, a Paladin, preferably. I’ll ask Onica, Kylan and Rek’yr to pick whomever best suited to talk to their respective Maudra’s.” Rian says. “Meeting concluded.” He rises from the stone throne, but does not make to leave.  
Onica is the first to rise, heading for the door, where she waits for Naia. The Drenchen Princess gets up from her seat as well. Onica gives a quick knock on the door. The door swings open. “My ladies.” Maurix gives a small polite bow. One by one the other council members leave as well. 

Only Rian, Gurjin and Seladon are left in the council chamber. “Can I escort you to your cottage, All Maudra?” Maurix asks. “Yes, in a bit. I first have something to ask of you.” Seladon rises from her seat, smoothing out her deep blue dress. “Naturally, All Maudra, your wish is my command.” Maurix comes over to her side. “I want you to go Ha’rar. Take the paladin you trust most, you will leave two days from now.” Seladon says. “Yes All Maudra.” Maurix replies obediently. “You are to scout all the farmland and the entire city. Take nothing with you, except a report of what you have found. Everything out of the ordinary we want to know.” Seladon instructs. “Naturally, All Maudra.” Maurix responds.   
“Very well, I am going to take my rest.” Seladon says. Maurix offers her his arm. She calmly takes it and allows the paladin to escort her from the council chambers.

“Can she just do that?” Gurjin asks. “She is the All Maudra, she can send who ever she wants.” Rian replies. “I guess. But he is .. like her bodyguard, why would she send her body guard?” Gurjin sits on the edge of the ornate wooden table. Rian stands between his knees. The two gelling embrace. “I will miss you.” Rian says softly, nosing into Gurjin’s shoulder. “I’ll be quick about it, I promise. And I am not gone yet. I will leave in two days.” Gurjin murmurs. “Two days is a very short time. And I can’t stand to be without both you and Deet.” Rian replies. “As I said, I’ll be quick.” Gurjin murmurs.  
Slowly Rian pulls back. “That was not bad right, for my first council?” He asks. “Not bad at all. Your old man would have been proud.” Gurjin lifts one hand to cup Rian’s cheek. Rian closes the distance again. The two friends share a slow kiss.


	3. Expeditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has smut, be warned. 
> 
> Gurjin and Maurix leave, for their childhood towns. And their absence is felt.

The weekly feast seems extra festive. The music is louder than usual, even though the musicians are almost all Vapran. There seems to be more food, or is that because there are fewer gelfling in Stone-in-the-Wood now. Maybe that is why the laughter coming from Bobb’N and the other Grottan childlings is louder now. They squeal and cheer while Gurjin chases them around the field.   
One of the little one’s tries to take to a tree, but Gurjin plucks her up. He holds her on one arm and she is giggling madly. “Now there is no getting away for you.” He sits himself down on a stool, setting the little Grottan on one knee. Rian and the childling’s parents watch on as the young girl stays perfectly still on Gurjin’s knee. She only reaches out for his palm. “She only just discovered Dreamfasting, it is all she wants to do.” Says her mother. Rian does not take his eyes off of Gurjin, who’s eyes are closed. He wonders what memory the girl is sharing with his lover.  
Bobb’N climbs up on the bench beside Rian. He heaves a sigh and leans against him. Rian raises a hand to gently muss up the childling’s hair. “You miss Deet.” The boy says. It is not even a question. Rian sighs as well and nods. “I do.” He says. 

Brea sits by the fires, which are newly build. There are a few gelfling dancing, but they are the first. It is one of those stiff Vapran dances that not quite befit Stone-in-the-Woods free air. Brea wants to dance too, but not that type of dance. She wants to dance a jolly dance. She wants to relish these times, times in which she still has the chance to be jolly. Times in which she can still unworriedly dance. She should not waste them on overtly formal stiffness the Vapran so eagerly employed. She wants to dance the dances she had seen the Drenchen and Sifan dance. She wants Rek’yr to teach her Dousan dances. She heaves a soft sigh and peers into the flames of the small fire.

“Go to her.” Naia says. “I h-have no idea what you are talking about.” Kylan sputters. “She is all alone there, no sandmaster in sight. Dance with her.” Naia tells him. Kylan’s ears grow pink. “You like her, don’t you?” Naia cooes. “No! You know I like your brother, Naia!” Kylan all but yells. Naia puts her hand on his back, between his shoulders. “Both can be at the same time, now ask her for a dance before I do it for you.” She tells him.

“Brea?” The Vapran princess looks up as she hears her name. Kylan is standing beside her stool. “Would you like to dance with me, please. I mean .. I mean, just as friends of course.” Kylan stammers. Brea giggles behind her hand. She has never seen Kylan shy like this before. “Yes, of course, friends can dance.” Brea gets to her feet. She grabs Kylan by the hand and drags him over to where the other gelfing are dancing.  
They dance a jollier dance than the other dancers. Brea suspect it is a Spriton dance. She really enjoys it. Dancing with Kylan is easy, he is a good dancer and leads her well. They laugh together, because they both enjoy the dance. It is a good dance, a dance Brea relishes. She isn’t even bothered that it is not the dance she wished for. It is perfectly fine that it is not Rek’yr. Dancing with Kylan is fun!

Rian heads to bed early. Gurjin follows suit. He is not even subtle about it. No excuses. He just says his goodnights and follows Rian to the cottage they share. When he enters, Rian is struggling out of his boots. The Stonewood is hopping around on one foot, almost toppling over. “Sit down, let me do that.” He says, with some exasperation in his voice. Rian groans and flops down in the nearest chair. Gurjin calmly unlaces Rian’s boots and pulls them off. And then also his socks.  
Gurjin flops down on his bumm and draws off his own boots, discarding them carelessly. Rian chuckles and looks down on him. “I am really going to miss you.” He mutters. “You have been saying that for two days. I know you will, but this has got to be done.” Gurjin stands up and grabs Rian by his thighs. Rian curls his legs around Gurjin’s waist and leans in for a kiss. Gurjin kisses back languidly. He carried Rian over to the bed, laying him down on the sheets.   
The Drenchen turns away, swiftly ridding himself of his clothes. “Have I told you what a great bumm you have?” Rian cooes. “Not this Thrine.” Gurjin turns to him. Everything about him is so well sculpted that Rian feels his mouth start to water. “I guess you want a piece of this huh?” Gurjin smirks. “No, I want all of it.” Rian says. Gurjin laughs joyfully in response. “And you shall have it, my love.” He climbs into bed.

Rian undresses as swift as he can, between kisses that take his breath away and bruising hickies. Everyone will be able to see what they did. The marks will show better on Rian’s skin, the purpling bruises stand out much more on him.   
Gurjin’s mouth trails lower, over Rian’s chest. Rian whimpers softly in response. Not enough for Gurjin. He nips at one of Rian’s small nipples. Rian cries out in pleasure. Gurjin gives his other nipple a nip as well and then ventures his mouth lower. Rian whines and trashes. “Ooooh Thra.” He whimpers. Gurjin dips his tongue into Rian’s belly button. Rian gives him another soft whine. Gurjin’s mouth slowly moves to Rian’s thighs. 

Rian feels his mind crumble whilst Gurjin absolutely worships his thighs. 

Gurjin pours his breath over Rian’s throbbing erection. “Aahngh.” Is all Rian can manage in response. Gurjin smirks widely up at his lover. “Just release me from this suspence, will you.” Rian groans. Gurjin leans in and kisses Rian from root to tip. Loudly, Rian moans. Slowly, Gurjin works Rian’s cock into his mouth. Rian moans out loud and claws at the sheet.   
Gurjin slowly bobs his head. Rian writhes and squirms below him. There is no end to the moans that pour from the Stonewood’s lips. Gurjin hollows his cheek. “Mmmmgh.” Rian’s hair go from the sheets into Gurjin’s hair. He tugs at braids, dreads and loose strands of green, blue and brown hair. Gurjin groans around the Stonewood’s cock. And then he wolfs his down to the root. “Oh Thra!” Rian cries out. 

Rian comes to completion very quickly tonight.

Gurjin swallows around him. Slowly, Rian disentangles his fingers from Gurjin’s dreads. Gurjin unhands the younger gelling and sits up, rocking back on his haunches. He looks down on Rian as though he wants to devour him. Rian basks in that gaze, drinking it in as thought it is something tangible.  
Gurjin attaches his mouth once more to Rian’s thighs. He is far from done with Rian. The Drenchen sucks and bites at the Stonewood’s skin until it bruises and bleeds. Rian absolutely loves it. His arousal is trying to overtake him again, but it is too soon after he has spent him. Gurjin’s lips wander up further. His tongue dips into Rian’s belly button again. And upwards he trails his kisses. Both Rian’s nipples get another nip. Rian rewards Gurjin with cute sharp moans. Gurjin’s lips venture to Rian’s neck. He licks at the hickies he left there previously. “Oh Gurjin.” Says Rian airily.

Gurjin claims Rian’s lips with his own. Rian opens his mouth right away. Gurjin’s tongue invades it immediately. Their tongue’s dance. 

Gurjin nests himself between Rian’s legs. Gurjin’s arousal collides with Rian’s limbness. Gurjin groans softly into Rian’s mouth. He starts to grind down on Rian. His powerful hips make the motions very firm. Rian moans his sweet moans. Blood is streaming down to his groin again. Gurjin smirks at the swift reaction of Rian’s body.  
The Drenchen’s mouth wanders again. To Rian’s ears this time. First the right. Rian absolutely melts as Gurjin’s tongue and lips map the sensitive skin of his ears. His moans are even louder than before. Gurin chuckles against the shell of Rian’s ear. “Can you even hear yourself.” He murmurs. Rian’s ear turn bright red. “Hard to miss.” The Stonewood mumbles. “Very hard to miss.” Gurjin affirms.  
When also Rian’s left ear has been subjected to thorough worshipping, Gurjin sits up again. He peers down on Rian, eating him up with his eyes. He traces a hand from Rian’s throat, nothing the hitch in Rian’s breath, all the way to his groin. 

“Turn around.” The Drenchen orders.

Rian obliges, turning onto his belly. Gurjin groans in appreciation. “You are so handsome, Rian.” He murrs. “As are you.” Rian murmurs, before nuzzling his face into his pillow. Gurjin smirks smugly and give Rian a playful slap on the butt. Rian’s head lifts from the cushion and he yelps. Gurjin laughs heartily. “And you got a great arse.” He purrs. Rian huffs and noses his face back into his pillow.  
Gurjin leans in, placing his lips just below Rian’s hairline. “Hmmm fuck.” Rian breathes. He knows what is going to happen now. Gurjin’s done this before. The Drenchen chuckles and begins the torment. He rains kisses on Rian’s spine. Rian can only helplessly moan and squirm in response. The skin over his spine is very sensitive to Gurjin’s touch. Gurjin goes lower and lower. Rian is coming apart under his touches once again.

“Get your knees up.” Gurjin says. Rian obediently comes up on hands and knees. “Good lad.” Gurjin purrs. Rian’s ears fluster in response to the mild praise. He lets out a startled little yip when he feels Gurjin trail a finger through the cleft of his ass. “Are you ready, or should I open you up a little bit?” Gurjin murmurs hotly. “I-I .. I’m ready.” Rian mutters. “Shall we put that to the rest?” Gurjin chuckles.  
Slowly Gurjin presses his fingertip against Rian’s opening. It yields slowly, but the small glands just past the ring of muscle have already made Rian’s column slick. Once past the muscle, Gurjin’s finger slips in easily. Rian moans lewdly. “Oh yes, that feels about ready.” Gurjin confirms. He carefully adds a second finger and searches for Rian’s prostate. Rian groans wickedly as the Drenchen stimulates his most sensitive spot. Rian can feel his knees buckle. He is so tempted to fall down onto his belly again. But he knows that won’t do.  
Gurjin spends a little while massaging Rian’s prostate. He only lets up when Rian’s knees and wrists start to tremble. “Come, on your back.” He says. With a sigh of relief, Rian obliges. He flops onto his back. Gurjin leans in for a greedy kiss. Rian kisses back all too happy, weaving his fingers through Gurjin’s dreads. 

Gurjin lines his cock up with Rian’s entrance. Rian tenses in anticipation. “Rian, what have I said, relax.” Gurjin purrs. Rian exhales loudly, trying to will all his muscles to relax. But he is so keyed up, that it is not all that easy to do. “I don’t want to make this hurt.” Gurjin says. “I’ll be fine.” Rian snaps.   
In response Gurjin gives the Stonewood a firm slap on the thigh. Rian yelps in pain as well as in pleasure. He forgets his tension, bliss filling his mind. Gurjin pushes into his with ease. He presses in slowly, not in a hurry. Rian moans deliciously for him. “See, you can do it.” Gurjin murmurs. He pushes further in and Rian closes his eyes to savour the way Gurjin splits him open. “Gggghgh, fuck.” He managed to groan. Gurjin groans back at him, bottoming out.

Rian all but yanks at Gurjin’s hair while the Drenchen ploughs into him like a beast. Rian can only moan desperately. He feels that another climax is upon him.

Gurjin fucks him right through it. He does not still while Rian spends himself over both their bellies. “That’s right, let it all go.” Gurjin growls huskily. He leans in to kiss Rian deeply. Rian is all too eagerly to return the kiss.  
The Drenchen doesn’t take long to come to completion after his lover. He spends himself within Rian’s column. He stays hilted until he begins to soften. Only then he withdraws. Rian whines at the loss. 

Gurjin plops down beside Rian and gathers the Stonewood in his arms. Rian is still panting, his spine and toes still tingling. “That was .. overwhelming.” He mumbles against Gurjin’s chest. Gurjin gently strokes Rian’s hair. “Now sleep, sweetling.” He murmurs. Rian feels his eyelids grow heavy. “G’night.” He mutters. “Good night, my love.” Gurjin presses a kiss to Rian’s forehead.

Rian wakes up when Gurjin slips out of bed. Rian opens his eyes. “Where are you going?” He croaks. “The Great Smerth, remember.” Gurjin answers. “Already?” Rian sits upright. “Yeah, the earlier I leave, the easier I travel.” Gurjin pulls on his breeches and laces them up. “I’ll miss you.” Rian says softly. Gurjin pulls his jerkin over his head. He leans over to the bed and presses a kiss to Rian’s forehead. “I’ll miss you too luv.” He says. He puts on his overcoat and boots. Rian sends him a forlorn look. Gurjin straps on his shoulder guards and his swordbelt. “Don’t think of Deet or Mira too much while I am off, alright?” He purrs. “I’ll try not to.” Rian mutters.

He can’t go back to sleep. His bed is cold and far too large without Gurjin in it. He recalls crawling into this very bed after having a nightmare, whining and nosing into his mother’s bossom. He remembers his father singing him to sleep. He cannot bide to be in this bed for a minute longer. The bed where he was likely conceived as well as born.  
He gets up, bathes and dresses. Everyone else is still vast asleep. Rian sits down by the ashes of the bonfire, the dual glave in his lap. Even though the blade’s edges are sharp as sin, Rian hones it with his favorite wetstone. He gazes at the ashes and tries to heed Gurjin’s advice.   
But the intrusive thoughts come unbidden. The thought of Mira chokes him off. Her death, although two unum past, stings his heart. Had he not challenged her to hunt that Spitter, she would not have been the first victim. But someone else would have! And they would have been none the wiser. And Rian would have never warned the other clans. The Skeksis would have drained all of them.  
Mira was the catalyst. Rian wonders if Mira was the sacrifice Thra demanded to open their eyes. Without it, they would still be blind in the dark. A thought that makes him feel at least a little less desperate, but it does not take away the hurt he feels. 

The thoughts of Deet bring him no more comfort. If anything they serve to mess him up only more. He is upset with himself for finding Deet so easy to love, so soon after losing Mira. But he is aware that he cannot choose his feelings. He can only choose the way he acts. Not that there is no acting at all now, Deet isn’t even around anymore.  
How much she withdrew from him since taking the Sanctuary Tree’s powers hurt Rian. But before he hadn’t allowed himself to give it much thought. It is such a forgein thing to him. The only one who ever pulled away from him was his father. And Rian wasn’t even sure if it was Ordon to pull away, or him just growing away from his father. Yes, that had been painful. But Deet pulling away hurt in such a primal way that Rian barely understands what to do with it. 

Rian tries so hard to think of something else, that he can only decides that thinking of his father is the only better option. Only lately he has the feeling he is doing what would have made his father proud. And only now that Ordon has gone back to Thra. That stings too.   
So Rian wanders his thoughts along, to his mother and sister. He sort of assumes they had been taken by the Ascendency. They were not in Maudra Fara’s small party, so either they had gone back to Thra or escaped some other way.   
There is no consolatory thought in his mind. Every direction is another woeful path. “Stop this!” Rian shouts at himself, throwing his wetstone in the ashes. 

“My lord?” Maurix’ voice startles Rian. He looks up, ears perked. “P-paladin.” He mumbles. “You are up awfully early.” Maurix sits down beside Rian. “So are you.” Rian retrotts. “You got me there, my lord. I am due to leave to Ha’rar in a few hours and I figured I’d feed my landstrider a bit extra and brush her out some.” The Paladin chuckles gently. “What of yourself?” He tilts his head, his pink locks tumbling off of his square shoulders.   
Rian picks his wetstone out of the cold ashes. “Gurjin left a few hours ago. I can’t stand to be abed without him.” He replies. “Is the Drenchen your mate?” Maurix asks. An honest mistake to make, it is not like Rian and Gurjin are very secretive about what they do. Rian’s ears flush. “He is my lover.” He replies. Maurix nods, understanding.   
“Oh .. about him. He left without his companion.” The Paladin says. Rian’s ears perk in a worried fashion. “Gurjin went alone.” He mutters. “I advised him not to, but he would not listen.” Maurix gives Rian a little worried frown. “Typical.” Rian shakes his head. “I’ll have to trust he will come back safely.” He heaves a sigh. 

Slowly, other gelfling are starting to erupt from their cottages. They busy themselves with bathing and making breakfast. Rian and Maurix sit side by side, watching them go about their mornings. “Ha’rar will certainly be a change of scenery.” Maurix remarks. “Much less peopled.” Rian agrees. It is the extend of their conversation. They sit, silent again.   
Rek’yr sits with the two gelling. He cradles a bowl of food gracefully in one hand. Maurix glances at the fruits inside the bowl. “I too should break my fast. I leave when the suns are all in the sky.” Maurix gets up and walks off to wherever he can find what Rek’yr has. Rian fingers the hilt of the Dual Glave, but hesitates to talk. He doesn’t know what to say to the Sandmaster.   
“Good morrow to you too, Rian.” Rek’yr sends the Stonewood a minute smile. “Not meaning to give offense, but there is nothing good about this morning.” Rian does not mean to snap, but he does it all the same. “Wish to speak about it?” Rek’yr asks. “ No.” Rian all but barks.

But he unloads his entire thought process on the Dousan all the same.

Once Rian is finished talking, Rek’yr has also finished his breakfast. Rek’yr puts down his bowl and puts a hand on Rian’s arm. “Your mind is very troubled, which I understand. But by Thra’s will, it will be better in the future. Seers of both the Sifan and the Dousan clan have seen futures in which Gelfling of all clans live freely, without Skeksis or their like, without wars.” He says calmly. “Yeah, but it hurts now.” Rian says. “And it will, for a good while longer, but should not arrest your life and your development. Thra has taken from you, but it will give equally.” Rek’yr’s voice is rather soothing. Rian finds that he cannot keep disliking the guy. “Will Thra give Deet back to me? Will Thra take Gurjin from me as well?” Rian sounds scared. Rek’yr’s hand slides from Rian’s arm to his palm.   
The dreamfast is accidental and quite complete. Rian only gets a glimpse of what Rek’yr has seen. It has the blurry sense of a vision rather than an actual memory. There are a lot of children, toppling over a very large Drenchen. From far away Rian can hear laughter. He recognises Brea’s tinkling bell laughter and Deet’s joyful titters. He can hear his own and Kylan’s and Rek’yr’s. They are laughing! There are children! There is a future full of joy!  
Rek’yr removes his hand from Rian’s. “Th-thank you for showing me that.” Rian mutters, his ears feel hot and heavier than usual. “I want you to be very aware that this is a possible future. I have seen other options that are very bleak. This is a future all of us will have to actively work for. But I believe we can reach it.” Rek’yr says. He rises from his seat. “Break your fast, Young Leader, many a gellfing will be relying on you.” He takes his leave.

One and a half hour later, most gelfling of Stone-in-the-Wood are gathered to see Maurix and his companion Paladin Istor off to Ha’rar. Istor has already mounted his Land Strider. Maurix is about to do the same. “Paladin, wait!” Seladon cries out to him. Maurix whips around, looking upon the All Maudra as she hurries to him. “Please promise me you will come back to me.” Seladon says to him. “I mean to do so, All Maudra.” Maurix says gently. He eyes her curiously, like he can sense there is more to this emotional goodbye.  
“I believe you misunderstand me, Maurix. I will not sleep soundly if I do not know you safe. Return as swiftly as you can.” Seladon says. “I will Seladon, I promise.” Maurix’ voice is an octave lower and softer than before. He carefully cups her cheek with one warm hand and leans in. Seladon’s heart all but combusts when his lips crash down against her own. She has no idea what to do, beside kiss him back.   
Seladon is breathless when Maurix pulls away. “We will talk about how many lines I crossed when I return.” The Paladin mounts his landstrider and spurs it on right away. The beast gargles and takes off at quite a pace. “Yah!” Istor spurs on his landstrider as well. The second, smaller beast, takes off as well. 

“What just happened?” Brea asks Seladon. Seladon covers her mouth with her hand. “I believe he just kissed me…” She mumbles.

Maurix and Istor ride without pause. They only halt to make their water or their dirt. They take their meals on the backs of their landstriders. They make it to Ha’rar in two days and a half. They are indescribably saddlesore once they arrive. 

Maurix groans as he climbs down from his landstrider. “Oh my … I have had my fair share of riding.” He groans. “Even my saddlesores have saddlesores.” Istor complains. “Let’s just get about searching the city.” Maurix wanders away from his landstrider. He has a bit of trouble walking straight. Istor finds his knees wobbling as well. “You want to be back in Stone-in-the-Wood as soon as you can get away with, don’t you?” He teases. Maurix’ ears turn red and he is glad he has his hood up. “What gives me away.” Maurix begins to head uphill, to the citadel. There is no true sign of disturbance in the town. Most things were cleared away before the Vapran answered the summons Kylan, Gurjin and Naia surely brought them.   
“You kissed the All Maudra, that isn’t nothing, my friend.” Istor chuckles. He tries very hard to keep his voice casual, but Maurix can hear a note of impression. “Yeah I did and I am not sure if that was a good idea.” Maurix grumbles. He is half convinced he is in for a lashing when he comes back to Stone-in-the-Wood.  
“Are you in love with the All Maudra, or do you just want to have a roll in the sack with someone important?” Istor asks. Maurix lets out a derisive snort. “If I wanted to have a quick shag with someone of station I could have hit up literally anyone else.” He says. “So you are in love with the All Maudra.” Istor’s voice is slightly disbelieving, as though he cannot help being sceptical of the Paladin pursuing someone so far above his station. “I have been in love with Seladon as long as I can remember. I used to beg my father to bring me around the citadel so I could sneak glances at her. As soon as I was old enough I became a soldier, to be nearer to her.” Maurix confesses. It is the first time he even say this out loud. Not even his fathers know this about him. It is something he kept to himself.

Maurix and Istor head for the citadel. The city is clean and absolutely deserted. “No one has been here since the Vapran left.” Maurix says. “Everything is as we left it.” Istor agrees. “We should eat something and head for the farmlands.” Maurix remarks. “I am not saying no to a bite to eat.” Istor chuckles. “Shall we then.” Maurix sits down on a garden wall. The flowers and herbs are already running wild. Maurix bends down to pluck a few leaves of a fresh flavoured herb, bringing them to his mouth and chewing slowly on them.   
Istor reaches into his back and draws out a loaf of bread, strips of dried meat and a heel of cheese. Maurix’ stomach rumbles loudly. Istor tears the bread in two and hands Maurix one half. He also gives Maurix half the heel of cheese and a couple of strips of meat. He knows Maurix favours fish over meat. “Thank you, friend.” Maurix says gently. Istor replies only with a small smile. 

After lunch, the two Paladin’s trek, on foot, to the farmlands around Ha’rar. There are as many signs of disturbance as in the town. The crops only have grown a little bigger. “We are going to need many a hand to harvest all this.” Istor makes a wide gesture at the fields. “Lord Rian send Prince Gurjin to gather strong Drenchen and carts from the Spriton, I doubt we need worry about that.” Maurix replies. “Drenchen don’t sow, how are they expected to reap?” Istor sounds sceptical. “I am sure they can follow orders.” Maurix shrugs. “I am sure Seladon and Rian will elect a group of farmers to boss them around.” He chuckles softly at the thought. “You are a filthy sadist, you know.” Istor says. “I have heard fables about the stubbornness of the Drenchen. So I guess it would be fun to see them having to do what a simple farmers tells them to.” Maurix says with a wide smirk. Istor laughs loudly. 

They spend the rest of their day double checking the safety of the farmland and taking stock of how much there is to harvest. 

They dine in an abandoned in and find themselves a warm bed there. 

Maurix and Istor return seven days after their departure. They arrive back before Gurjin. They are greeted festively. Many gelfling gather around their landstriders and cheer for their return. Istor is positively beaming with joy for the attention.  
But Rian and Seladon keep their distance. They stand in front of the door to what was once Maudra Fara’s throne room, but is now the council chamber. “You should go talk to her.” Istor says, while dismounting his landstrider. “We both should. I am pretty sure the council is assembled to hear our report.” Maurix jumps down from his landstrider’s back. “Ah .. yes of course.” Istor mumbles. It would seem he had already forgotten about the council. Maurix grabs him by the wrist and pulls him in the direction of the council chamber. As she sees them coming, Seladon turns away and heads inside, Rian following close behind.

The council is assembled at the large wooden table. All council members are seated, save for Rian, who stands at the foot of the throne. There are three free chairs. Two beside Betram and one on Rian’s right hand. “Be seated.” The young leader says. Both Paladins sit in the chairs beside Betram. Istor, although he has never attended a council, is well aware the Right Hand seat of the Leader is not his.   
Rian sits down on the Stone Throne. He wanders his eyes briefly to the empty seat by his side. “Very well. Council meeting is officially opened.” He says. Maurix notices he sounds tired. “Tell me, what of Ha’rar.” Rian asks. “Ha’rar is like we left it, M’lord.” Istor replies. “And how did you leave it?” It is Onica who asks this. “Abandoned, but clean enough.” Istor replies, sounding a bit shy.   
“For what Istor has told me, the Vapran answered the summons brought by Princess Naia, Prince Gurjin and Kylan.” Maurix comes to his friend’s defense. “But only after clearing away with which they were occupied. The city is neat, but devoid of all life.” He says. “The Skeksis have no been there?” Asks Naia. Maurix shakes his head. “There was not a single sign of disturbance.” He answers.  
“As for the harvest?” Asks Brea. “We are most certainly going to need those Drenchen Lord Rian has sent for.” Maurix replies. Brea scribbles down what is said and gives a small nod. “Very well, who will go with the Drenchen and the farmers?” Seladon raises her voice. “Oh, I will!” Brea exclaims eagerly. “I want to go to the library and gather some books I am sure we can use.” She says. Seladon sends her a strict glare. Brea turns to her sister. “Please Seladon, please.” She all but begs. Seladon looks rather apt to deny her.  
“All Maudra, I shall go with the Princess as her personal guard.” Rek’yr speaks up. Seladon turns to the Dousan. Rian’s eyes venture to the Sandmaster as well. “I’ll allow it. I have faith in Brea’s mind as well as Rek’yr’s sword.” He says. He is well aware he is going against Seladon’s wishes, but he recognises the wisdom in Brea’s request. He looks to Seladon, waiting for her affirmation. The All Maudra heaves a sigh. “Fine, but if Brea comes home injured or does not return, it is on your head, Sandmaster.” She says, not all that content with the decision. “Of course, All Maudra.” Rek’yr says with a warm smile. 

Rian stands from the Throne. “Council dismissed.” He says. The councilors get up. Everyone leaves, until only Seladon, Maurix and Rian are left in the stone hall. 

Rian exchanges a look with Seladon. Seladon’s muscles tense a little and she gives him a stiff nod. She is not pleased with him. Rian turns away from her and leaves the stone hall. Maurix watches him go. “All Maudra…” He says softly. “I have a name, you know it, employ it.” Seladon snaps. “I do not yet speak to you as Seladon. I speak to you as All Maudra.” Maurix’ voice is a little louder. Seladon’s ear press a little closer to her skull. She is not pleased.  
“All Maudra, if I may, I understand that you are upset that Rian decided for you, but he is right in doing so. It is wisdom to let Brea go to Ha’rar. She knows what she books she might need and she knows Ha’rar, better than the farmers.” The Paladin says. “But what gives him the right to take that choice from me. I am All Maudra.” Seladon hisses. “You did. You made him head of the council.” Maurix turns away from her. He plans to leave. He judges it unwise to talk to her any further, by the scent of the mood she is in.

“I did not give you leave to go, Maurix.” Seladon says. Slowly Maurix swivels back around. “You did not, Seladon.” His voice is softer and lower once again. “I do believe we need to talk.” Seladon walks over to him. “Ah yes. I believe I have broken quite a few rules of propriety last week.” Maurix tries to keep his voice light, but his palms are sweaty. “Yes you did.” Seladon agrees. “You do realise that I cannot let you get away with it unpunished.” It is not a question. Unseen, under his hood, Maurix’ ears perk up. “I might as well do it again, if that is the case.” He smirks at her. Seladon feels her heart leap into her throat. “Or maybe twice.” The way Seladon’s ears fluster do not escape Maurix’ notice. “Or mayhaps a great many times more.” His voice is now teasing. He is no longer nervous. And he is no longer talking to the All Maudra, he is talking to the woman he has fancied since he was a teenling. And the fact he is talking to her like and equal is making him confident.   
“You are aware of the consequences of your statement?” Seladon asks. “I do hope that I am not saying it in vain, my lady.” Boldly Maurix places his hands on Seladon’s hips and draws her closer. “My lady, I meant what I did.” He purrs. Seladon’s ears droop a little. “But … It cannot be.” She mutters. “Because you are All Maudra and I am the son of a Sifan soothseer.” Maurix sounds mocking. Seladon’s ears prick up again, in agitation. “I have laws to uphold!” She all but yells. Maurix’ pale green eyes remain calm. “Laws made by the Skeksis to divide not only the clans buts also the social castes.” He replies. Seladon bites down on her lower lip. She knows he is right.  
Maurix pulls her lips free from her teeth with his thumb. “Don’t hurt yourself, love.” He murrs. “Dance with me tonight, please.” He cooes. Seladon heaves a sigh. “Very well…” There is hesitation in her voice. She looks upon the Paladin. He is noble, despite his halfblood status. The freckles are constellations across his face. His eyes are the most ethereal shade of light green. The locks of hair that escape his hood are shades of pink, with silver and red strands littering the locks that frame his face. His hair cascades down his broad shoulders and chest. He smiles gently at her. 

He once more cups her face with both hands. Seladon closes her eyes. She welcomes it this time. There is something in the back of her brain that tell her she ought to find herself a more suitable mate. And that something sounds an awful lot like the Scrollkeeper. But she can’t help but be drawn in by everything about the Paladin. She is all too eager to respond when his lips press down on hers.

That evening the music is extra festive. Kylan tells songs of Vapran Myths. There is an abundance of great foods and the spirits are high. Even Rian is seen with a smile on his face. Brea takes him by the hand, pulling him to his feet and to the other dancing gelfling.  
Maurix offers Seladon his hand. “Shall we, my lady.” He cooes. Seladon delicately places her hand in his. He draws her to her feet and leads her to the dancers. The bonfire is mirrored in his eyes and the flames highlight the reds in his hair. He is so amazingly handsome in that very moment.   
Maurix laces his fingers with Seladon’s own and takes her waist with the other hand. Seladon places her free hand on his shoulder. He keeps his body rigid and his eyes distant. The Vapran dances are so stiff, Seladon almost wishes she knows how to dance one of those smooth Dousan dances she has seen the Sandmaster perform.  
Maurix does not maintain the prescribed stiffness for very long. Soon he is leading her in wide circles across the grass. Seladon is laughing, she enjoys herself. Maurix smiles widely at her. “Joy suits you so much better than worry.” He purrs at her. Seladon flusters in response. “You give much cause for both.” She says to him. “And I will continue to do so for a great many thrine.” He purrs. Seladon can’t help a gale of giggles.

The two continue to dance. Maurix does not kiss Seladon again though. He means to do the courting part the correct way.


	4. The Stripping of Ha’rar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gurjin comes back and the expedition to Ha'rar sets off. 
> 
> Heavy on Rek'yr and Brea

Gurjin returns the following afternoon. Rian runs to him. “That is about time!” He throws his arms around Gurjin’s neck. “I have missed you too.” Gurjin wraps one arm around the Stonewood’s waist. Rian noses the underside of the Drenchen’s jaw. Gurjin laughs heartily and spins Rian around. “You are not leaving my side again, you hear.” Rian says. Gurjin chuckles and his ears perk up. “I hear you, my love.” He says, nuzzling Rian’s fragrant hair.  
More gelfling approach to welcome Gurjin home. “Where are the warriors?” Naia asks. “On their way here from Sami Thickett. I traveled ahead.” Gurjin gently puts Rian down and turns to his sister. “How is mother?” Naia hugs her brother, sounding more gentle. “Tough as nails, just like you know her.” Gurjin happily hugs his twin back. “And pa?” Naia steps back, but her hands she keeps on Gurjin’s shoulders. Gurjin snorts and shakes his head. “He got gored by a Nebri Bull again. Ma’s got him on bedrest.” He replies. Naia shakes her head as well.

Other gelfling greet Gurjin and hug him.

“Oh yeah. I got a few things I needed to give to you.” Gurjin reaches into the bag at his hip. “Rian, ma says this whintleroot helps against the nightmares. Eat a little before bed, she says.” He hands Rian the first of two stachells. “Thank you.” Rian mutters. “You know mother cares for you.” Gurjin says.  
The second satchell he gives to Naia. “Mother embowed these stones with her Vilyaya. Give them to Elder Cadia in his tea. You do need to support it with your own Vilyaya, but it will restore his mind.” He says. “Elder Cadia is still here?” Rian asks. He has been far too busy with the council to pay much mind to who exactly lives in Stone-in-the-Wood outside his close personal circle. “Maudra Ethri says he has to stay on land until his mind is whole again.” Onica informs him. “We had best get to it quickly.” Naia tells the Sifan gelf. She takes Onica by the arm and draws her along.  
“And this is for you.” Gurjin hands Brea a letter. “The Drenchen wrote me a letter?” Brea whispers, beyond impressed. Gurjin begins to laugh. “No, I was handed this letter by Maudra Mera. She says a friend of yours asked her to write it to you.” He replies. Brea plucks the letter from Gurjin’s fingers. She examines the wax seal, now recognizing the symbol of the Spriton Maudra. She breaks the seal and begins to read.

_Dearest Princess Brea,_

_We are joyous to share the fact of our betrothal with you and yours. We are to be wed in Sami Thickett after the pass of two unum. We would like to invite you and one other guest of your choice._

_Best Regards_   
_And hoping you are well,_

_Juni and Denys_  
  
Brea squeals and promptly throws her arms around Gurjin’s neck. Gurjin wraps one arm around her waist to keep her steady. “What was in that letter?” Rian asks. “Juni is marrying her Spriton boy.” Brea answers with a wide smile on her face. She lets Gurjin go and he her. “They will wed in two unum and I am invited.” She cheers happily. “That is wonderful.” Gurjin says.

Naia and Onica find Elder Cadia. He is in the Librarian’s cottage. To both the gelf’s surprise, Maurix is there as well. Cadia is asking a lot of very simple questions. The Librarian seems to be on the verge of tears. Maurix gives both women a frown. “What do you want?” He asks sharply. “Gurjin brought something for Elder Cadia.” Says Naia. “Another useless potion.” The Librarian snaps. “My mother’s Vilyaya.” Naia bites back.  
“Sit down dear.” Says the Librarian. He pushes Cadia down in a chair. “Paladin, we need hot water for tea.” Onica says. Maurix nods and retrieves a cup and the kettle from the stove. Naia tosses the stones, which are glowing with Laesid’s Vilyaya into the cup and pours the hot water on them. Onica grabs some tea leafs from a satchel on her belt and throws them in the cup.  
“Don’t burn yourself pa.” Maurix says. Elder Cadia blows on his tea. Naia walks aroun Cadia and places her hands on his head. Green Vilyaya pours from her fingers into his red curls.

It is not a visible change, but one they can feel. Cadia takes a deep breath in. “I would prefer it is we don’t talk about this ever again.” He says. “With all due respect, but you brought it upon yourself. Poisoning a Princess, what were you thinking!.” The Librarian all but yells at the Sifan Elder. “I wished only to protect her from her path.” Cadia weakly protests. Onica slaps him across the face with a flat hand. “Brea’s path leads us into danger, but also into liberty.” She snaps at him.  
“You are lucky she swapped your cups. You could have been locked up for life, had she lost her wits.” Maurix points out. Cadia’s ears droop. The Paladin turns to Onica. “And you were just a complicid, you put the root in her tea, did you not?” He says sharply. “How do you know?” Onica narrows her eyes. “Because I know my pa, if he can commandeer someone else to do it for him, he will.” Maurix says. “No I d-” Cadia begins to protest. “Yes you do!” The Librarian cuts him off. Maurix rolls his eyes.  
“Pa, Father, I have to go. I have patrol.” He says. “You go do your duty, my boy.” The Librarian gives the Paladin a small smile. Maurix leaves the cottage, seemingly in a bit of a hurry. “I did not know you had a son, Elder Cadia.” Onica says, a small smirk on her lips. “Cadia wasn’t very involved in raising boy.” The Librarian says in a snide tone. “Come on, that is our queue to leave.” Naia catches Onica with the arm and pulls her out of the cottage.

“So, what did I miss?” Gurjin asks. “The Paladin’s scouted out Ha’rar.” Rian sits down on the Stone Throne. Gurjin takes his place on his right. They are the only ones in the council chamber. “What did they find?” Gurjin asks. “Nothing, Ha’rar was as they left it.” Rian replies. “All neat and deserted huh?” Gurjin snortles. “Yep, all ready for the stripping.” Rian nods. “The Drenchen are eager to help.” Gurjin puts his hands over Rian’s own.  
“How was the Great Smerth?” Rian asks. “Every able bodied gelfling of age gelfling age is being trained to fight. If there will be war, the Drenchen will be ready to defend Thra.” Gurjin says. “That is good to hear. What of Sami Thickett?” Rian scribbles down a little note on what Gurjin tells him. “They are sowing more crops, to supply the warriors with. Those of fighting age are trained to be able to defend the lands when time comes. The Vapran warriors are selecting the strongest of the fighting aged to become defenders of the people.” Gurjin replies. “Very good, any news from the Dousan or the Sifan, that you know of?” Rian asks gently. “Maudra Mera says Maudra Seethi has offered the Wellsprings as a safe haven for the young and the infirm.” Gurjin answers. “That is wonderful!” Rian exclaims.

Rek’yr finds Brea sitting by the fountain, the letter clutched to her chest. “Is there something the matter, sweet princess?” He sits down beside her. Brea turns her eyes to him and send him a radiant smile. “Well won’t you look at that, good news, I presume?” The Sandmaster cooes. “It is a letter from Juni, whom I met in the Order of Lesser Service. She writes me she is getting wed soon.” Brea says. Rek’yr smiles indulgently at the Vapran Princess. “That is wonderful, when is the happy couple planning on getting married?” He asks. “Two unum from now. And we are invited!” Brea says, smiling from ear to ear. “What us are you referring to?” Rek’yr asks, one ear held playfully lopsided.  
Brea giggles, recognising the Sandmaster’s flirtation. She gently pinches his ear between his thumb and forefinger. Rek’yr chuckles softly in response. “Us, you and I. Juni invited me and wrote I am allowed to bring one extra guest of my own choice.” Brea says in reply to his question. Rek’yr makes a small humming noise in understanding. “I am honoured to have been chosen.” He says gently. “I wouldn’t pick anyone else.” Brea says softly. She scoots a little closer to the Dousan and leans into his side. Rek’yr nuzzles his chin into her hair. He breathes in her scent and smiles peacefully.

Late the following afternoon the Drenchen and three score of Spirton arrive at Stone-in-the-Wood. Rian greets them personally and leads them to the clearing. There Gurjin and Kylan are overseeing the preparations of a grand feast. The last before the expedition to Ha’rar.  
Several Drenchen go over to Gurjin and Naia and greet them as though they haven’t seen the twins in many thrine. Some of the Spriton go to Kylan, greeting them in a more polite and calm way.

“Looky here, a Prince feeding his people.” A Drenchen warrior, standing about as high as Gurjin, greets his fellow clansman. Gurjin turns to him, a wide smirk showing of his serrated tusks and fangs. “Djesid, you sly snake.” He laughs heartily. They clasp each other by the elbow and wallop their heads together. Then they erupt in loud laughter. The two evidently are familiar with one another.  
“I didn’t know you were among the ranks, I am glad you joined.” Gurjin says. “Can’t exactly stay in the Smerth forever. I sure as sog got tired of body guarding your sisters.” The other Drenchen gelling says. That makes Gurjin laugh again. “They can be pains in the arse, I’ll admit, but they are still my sisters, show some respect.” He says, good natured. “With all due and such, but I am doing your job for you. Had you not gone to that castle, you would have been chasing those two gelfs around the Smerth.” Djesid says teasingly. “I know I do it better, no need to whine about it.” Gurjin gives him a slap on the back. The two gellings laugh together.

Soon enough the feast is ready and every resident of Stone-in-the-Wood sits down. Seladon formally welcomes the Drenchen and the Spriton and opens the feet with a short but old song.

The Drenchen mingle well and the mood is higher than it has been in a fortnight. Kylan plays jolly tunes on his firca and the Drenchen bring out several lutes and drums. They sing bawdy songs that make most Vapran fluster, darkening even their cheeks. And once most of the food has been eaten, they hop up on the tables and start dancing a very upbeat and quick dance. Soon enough, Naia and Gurjin are on the table as well, dancing and singing with those who are doubtlessly their childhood friends.  
Kylan and Rian seem unphased by the whole dancing on the table thing, but they are the only non Drenchens to react in this way. Brea and the Grottan’s enjoy the spectacle. But the Vapran and Rek’yr seem rather scanadlized. The Stonewoods and the Spriton laugh and share in the bawdiness, albeit a bit less overt.

Rian steals Gurjin away to his cottage as early as he dares, which is a good while past midnight. But he just can’t keep himself away from the Drenchen Prince anymore. He’s been pawing at Gurjin’s crotch for ten minutes before being swept up. Gurjin carries Rian off to the cottage, while the Stonewood noses the underside of his jaw.

It is of course an understatement to say Gurjin tears Rian’s clothes off. “I am going to eat you whole.” The Drenchen dumps the very naked Stonewood on the bed. He then undresses himself. Rian jumps up from the bed, only to kneel down before Gurjin. “Have you missed me that much?” Gurjin purrs. Rather than answering, Rian works Gurjin into his mouth.

The following morning, a big procession is gathered to go to Ha’rar.

All other gelfling are gathered to see them off. Rian and Seladon stand by the landstrider drawn carriage, which if for Brea and Rek’yr. “You had best take good care of her, Sandmaster. I will personally have your cock-n-bollocks, on a spike.” Rian says to the Dousan. “Naturally, Young Lord. If I cannot safeguard the princess, I might as well surrender myself to Thra now.” Rek’yr replies. “Don’t be so silly, it is not like there is anything amiss in Ha’rar.” Brea tells both gelling. “But what if the Skeksis plan to ambush them?” Seladon says. She is clutching at Maurix’ arm so hard her knuckles are starting to get white.  
“That is why the Drenchen I asked Gurjin to gather are all warriors. And the Spriton who came from Sami Thickett are also very skilled in battle.” Rian says gently to Seladon. “Your sister is in very good hands, my lady. You must have some faith in her.” Maurix tells Seladon. But her ears are pressed closely against her skull and she is not letting up. Brea embraces her older sister firmly. “We will be back as soon as we can.” She says softly.

Gurjin is speaking to the Drenchen. “Listen here y’all.” His voice is loud and full of the authority his parents have brought him up with. “You will do as the farmers and the Spritons tell ya. This ain’t about pride, this is about getting that harvest done nice, quick and efficient, ye hear?” He says. “Aye sir!” The Drenchen chorus. “Good, now get a move on.” Naia, who is standing beside her twin, of course has to have the word. “Aye ma’am!” The Drenchen chorus.  
Gurjin watches the Drenchen head down the path that will leave them to Ha’rar, come are pulling carts and others are brandishing spears. He grabs Djesid by the shoulder. “I have a special assignment for you, my friend.” He says. “Lay it on me.” Djesid replies. “You guard the Princess and the Sandmaster, they will be far too occupied with each other.” Gurjin instructs the other Drenchen.  
“Beg pardon, room for one more on that mission.” A small Spriton gelf jumps out of the nearest tree. Both Gurjin and Djesid startle a little. “And who might you be?” Naia asks. She turns her ears a bit towards the Spriton. “I’m Eeryn. I won’t get in the way.” The Spriton gelf gives a mocking little bow. The three Drenchen give her a curious look. “If you don’t mind, I won’t either.” Gurjin shrugs.  
Djesid gives the Spriton an up and down. “Sure, just don’t get in my way.” He says. “I told you I wouldn’t.” Eeryn hops back into the tree. “Two guards for the Princess and her Swashbuckler.” Gurjin says. “All set!” He calls out to Rian. The Stonewood gives a minute nod, more to himself than to Gurjin, really.

“Alright, save travels!” Rian calls out. Brea and Rek’yr sit down in the carriage. The coachman, a middleaged Stonewood, spurs on the landstriders and off they are. The Drenchen, Spriton and the farmers follow behind. They are starting their journey to Ha’rar.

Brea is leaned out of the carriage window to save at Seladon, Rian, Kylan and the twins. She waves at them until they are out of sight. Then she sits back down and leans into the cushions. “I hope Seladon won’t be angry with Rian for long.” She says. “She is worried for you, Princess and with right, Thra is no longer the safe place you knew it to be.” Rek’yr leans over to take her hands between his. Brea feels her ears heat up a bit. She sends Rek’yr a coy little smile. Rek’yr smiles warmly back at her.  
“I understand, but, I have you, right? You will protect me!” Brea says. Rek’yr laughs gently in response. “Of course, I will always protect you.” He cooes. Brea beams at him. She gives him an absolutely enamoured look.

Lore lumbers after the carriage. The Spriton and the Vapran stay well away from him, but the Drenchen seem not to mind the stone guardian.

The journey by foot takes much longer than by landstrider. The colum, halfway through the five day journey, visits a small Stonewood village. Brea is glad to be able to stretch her legs.  
The Stonewoods prove very hospitable. The Spritons mingle almost seamlessly with the villagers. Hey aid in prepping the feast and setting up the tents for the Drenchen and the farmers.  
At night the Stonewoods join the Drenchen warriors, the Vapran farmers and the Spriton at the bonfire. There sits Rek’yr, telling Dousan myths.

Brea notices that the Sandmaster doesn’t only talk with his tongue and lips. The Dousan gelling talks also with his hands. It is incredible to behold. Every gesture is a word and emphasises it. Rek’yr’s audience is absolutely captivated by the way he tells his tales. Brea most of all.She couldn’t be more enamoured with the Dousan, even if she tried.  
Rek’yr ceases his telling, giving the spotlight to a sturdy Drenchen gelf. She begins to tell a song about the Great Smerth. The crowd listens just as eagerly to her. But Brea’s attention waves. She leans against Rek’yr and heaves a small sigh. Rek’yr wraps one arm around her shoulder. He presses a kiss to her forehead.

The Princess and the Sandmaster have gotten to know each other over the past two days. Being confined to a carriage together sure caused them to talk about their respective journeys in life.  
Brea cannot deny that she is in love with Rek’yr. She is well aware that Rek’yr is a few Thrine older than her, but the difference is not too big. The Dousan is not as old as he makes it seem. He is, in fact, exactly what Brea is looking for. A gelling full of adventure, romance and knowledge of Thra.  
And the sentiment is mutual. It is obvious to see. It is in the way Rek’yr looks at Brea. It is in the tone of voice he employs while talking to her. He brushes a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear and smiles warmly. There is a fluster on Brea’s ears.

Rek’yr accompanies Brea to the small cottage she is staying at for the night. By the doorstep he stops. “I bid thee a good night, my Princess.” He says softly. He bends to kiss her knuckles. Brea smiles down on him softly. “And I you, Rek’yr.” She cooes. She wishes he would act less the gentleman and would come with her inside, but her princessly upbringing prevents her from inviting him in. They haven’t yet danced, it would not be right!  
Brea stands on the doorstep of her cottage until Rek’yr is out of sight. He has gone into one of the tents, where the Drenchen warriors sleep. She heaves a deep sigh and closes the door. Oh how dearly she wishes she could open it back up and holler for Rek’yr to return to her. She doesn’t feel like being alone.

In a large tree, growing right beside the cottage, sits a small Spriton woman. She is fiddling with an end of reed. It slips from her fingers. And it plonks right on top a Drenchen’s head. Djesid looks up. “What are you doing up there?” He grunts. “Making sure the Princess is well protected. Or didn’t you see the Sandmaster leave?” Eeryn sneers. Djesid rolls his eyes. “That is why I am here.” He says. “You have a long march ahead of you yet, shouldn’t you sleep?” Eeryn jumps from the tree to retrieve her reed pipe.  
Djesid holds the pipe out of her reach. “This type of reed grows in Sog. What are you doing with it?” He asks. “It is a blow pipe, numbnuts.” Eeryn climbs, swift and agile as can be, back into the tree and fishes her pipe from Djesid’s fingers. “Go to bed, Drenchen.” She tells him. “The Princess is perfectly safe.” She leans against the tree’s trunk. “You need to march tomorrow too.” Djesid protests. Eeryn shakes her head, but makes no reply.

The following morning Rek’yr walks past the tree to Brea’s cozy little cottage. He does not notice the Spriton gelf on the thick branch. Eeryn has stayed awake all this time. The Dousan raps his knuckles on the door. “Princess, it is time to break our fast.” He calls out. “I’m coming!” Brea calls out. She can be heard hurrying to the door.  
The door opens and reveals Brea, with her dress on backwards, struggling to put on her boots. Rek’yr chuckles softly and shakes his head. “I will wait, now dress properly.” He cooes to her. Brea sheepishly closes the door again. Only to erupt two minutes later, with her dress on the right way and her boots laced up.  
“My humblest apologies, my Princess. I did not mean to embarrass you.” Rek’yr says. He offers Brea his arm. Brea takes it with a happy lil smile. “It is quite alright.” She says.

Soon enough the colum is on its way to Ha’rar again. And no one seems to notice the Spriton napping on the back of the carriage.

Upon arriving in Ha’rar, the Drenchen set to exploring the city. They enter every house and take everything of value and anything edible that isn’t yet spoiled.

Rek’yr helps Brea out of the carriage. “Where to, Princess?” He asks. “The Citadel first, I am aching for a bath, even if I will have to draw the water myself.” Brea replies. Rek’yr chuckles softly. “Now now Princess, I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” He cooes at her. “I can draw water on my own just fine. I do it in Stone-in-the-Wood all the time.” Brea pouts at the Sandmaster.  
They calmly make their way to the Citadel. “It is exactly as we left it..” Brea mutters. “It looks magnificent.” Rek’yr says. “Would you like to see my chambers?” Brea asks. “Of course.” Rek’yr nods. “I hope you will like them. They are likely very different from what you are used to.” Brea says. “I am sure they are, I am used to a tent.” Rek’yr replies.  
Brea opens the doors to the citadel. And everything is indeed as they left it. “No one here…” Brea sighs. “Of course not, the Vapran are all in Stone-in-the-Wood or in Sami Thickett.” Rek’yr says. “Yeah, I know, but I am so used to see these halls brimming with servants and paladin. And now it is just you and I.” Brea’s ears droop. “Just and I.” Rek’yr agrees, caressing her cheek with his knuckles.

The two barely notice a Drenchen following diligently in their shadow, like he was ordered to.  
Brea takes her bath. Of course she didn’t have to draw her own water. Rek’yr, who had eventually spotted Djesid, send the Drenchen to do that for her. Both Sandmaster and Warrior stand outside her chambers. They can hear Brea talk to herself, but cannot make out what she is saying.  
Which is maybe for the better, because she is monologuing to herself, about Rek’yr. She washes the grime from the road from her body and rinses it out of her hair. She goes on and on to herself on how amazing she finds Rek’yr. She is in a gale of giggles by the time she reaches for her fluffy towel. She dries off and puts on one of her numerous clean dresses. And of course she puts the bone necklace back on.

Once she erupts from her chambers, Rek’yr looks upon her as though she is the most beautiful creature in all of Thra. “That is a lovely dress, my Princess.” He cooes. “Yeah, matches the necklace.” Djesid snortles. “Thank you, Rek’yr gave it to me, for protection.” Brea doesn’t let the Drenchen get to her. “Bones don’t protect in times like this, Princess, he had best do it himself.” Djesid says, in a slightly derisive tone.  
Brea ignores Djesid’s comment and takes Rek’yr by the arm. She leads him to the throneroom. A few Drenchen, a Vapran Paladin and a Spriton are awaiting her orders there. Djesid follows after in a leisurely fashion.  
Brea claps in her hands to call for attention. The gelfling in the throne room come to her. “Paladin, can you tell the Farmers they can find themselves a good place to sleep in the servants chambers.” She says gently to the Paladin. “Of course Princess.” The Paladin bows and hurries off. “You, sir, can invite the Spriton to stay in the Paladin’s barracks.” Brea tells the Spriton gelling. “Naturally ma’am.” The Spriton quickly makes off. “And what of the Drenchen?” Djesid asks. The other Drenchen warriors come over as well. “There is room enough in the barracks for you too.” Brea replies.

“And what of me, Princess?” Rek’yr asks with a wicked little smile. Brea catches on to it, but she elects to not acknowledge it. “You can have my sister Tavra’s chambers. Come, I will show you there.” She cooes coyly. “As you wish, my dearest.” Rek’yr purrs.  
Brea gently tugs the Dousan along to what were once Tavra’s chambers. But when she opens the doors, she feels choked off. Her grip on the doorknob is so hard her knuckles turn white. Rek’yr puts his hand over hers. “Brea, my love? What is the matter?” He asks softly. Suddenly, Brea begins to sob.  
“Tavra is dead! She is dead and she will come back.” Brea weeps. Rek’yr gently peels her hand from the doorknob and pulls her close. Brea leans into his embrace. “Thra will rest her soul, she will add her memories and her voice to the song. She will live on in it and in your heart.” Rek’yr cooes. Brea continues to weep, quiets down a little bit. Rek’yr continues to hold her.  
“How about we sit down for a moment.” The Sandmaster cooes. He opens the door of Tavra’s chambers and gently guides her to the sofa. They sit down, but Rek’yr continues to hold her. He starts to softly sing. It is a Dousan lullaby, speaking of the love of Thra and the memories of loved one’s long past. It is very comforting to Brea.

After a good while Rek’yr and Brea erupt from Tavra’s chambers. Brea’s calmed down and has washed her face. “Everything alright?” Djesid asked. The Drenchen stands just outside the doors. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Brea gives him a watery smile. Then her stomach growls. “But I am hungry.” She mutters. Both Djesid and Rek’yr laugh. “Come, we will get dinner started.” Rek’yr says.  
The Sandmaster seeks out the Spriton and summons them to the throne room. There Brea is waiting to show them to the kitchens. The Spriton are more than happy to start cooking. They get their hands on anything the kitchen has to offer, throwing away everything that has perished already while they are at it. In mere minutes, the kitchen is filled with laughter and song.

Soon enough everyone has a seat in the grand ballroom, at tables and on chairs dragged from every corner of the citadel. Brea can’t help but wonder if her mother would have approved. But seeing how Ha’rar is to be abandoned anyway, she tries not to let the slight disarray it causes bother her. She sits beside Rek’yr at the head of the largest table and silently eats the wonderful meal the Spritons have whipped up.  
Rek’yr is deep in discussion with two Drenchen women. They are speaking about healing herbs and the Dousan is eager to learn from them. Brea listens in with half an ear. But she also picks up on the farmers discussing what they should pick up from their homes to bring back to Stone-in-the-Wood or to their wives and children at Sami Thickett. And she overhears the Spritons discussing what crops they think the Vapran grow and which to harvest first. Most of the Drenchen warriors are exchanging bawdy jokes.

After dinner, the Spriton wash up the dishes and everyone retires to their beds.

Brea lingers on the doorstep of her chambers. Rek’yr turns to her at the door to Tavra’s room. He sees the way she dilly dallies. “Princess, is there something I can do?” He asks. He comes over to her. Gently he strokes her cheek. Brea closes her eyes and leans into his ministration. Rek’yr leans over and presses his lips to her forehead. “It is just so strange to be back in the citadel.” Brea mutters.  
“I thought that if I returned, it would be with my friends, to … to be at peace.” She says softly. “And now you are here, without them, to prepare for a war.” Rek’yr answers. He calmly pets Brea’s hair. “Y-yes.” Brea admits. “I am so sorry, dearest, that it is not what you had in mind.” Rek’yr cooes.  
“If you need me, I am across the hall.” He says. Brea nods. She stands on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Good night, my sandmaster.” She says softly. “Best of dreams, my Princess.” Rek’yr replies, his voice a warm rumble.

Brea retires to her chambers as soon as Rek’yr has closed the door of Tavra’s rooms behind himself. She heaves a deep sigh. “I probably won’t sleep a wink.” She mutters. She sigs through her wardrobe to pull out a nightshift and changes into it. She crawls between the cold and slightly dusty sheets.  
And she nods off in a matter of minutes.

The following morning, Rek’yr wakes Brea up with a rap of his knuckles on her door. Brea vaults out of bed and rushes to the door. “Yes?” She yanks it open. Rek’yr chuckles huskily at her. “That is a lovely night dress, Princess.” He purrs. His voice is a deeper purr, even sexier than usual. The Dousan’s morning voice makes Brea weak in the knees. All she can do is give a little yelp and shove the door shut again.  
“I’ll wait without, take your time getting dressed.” Rek’yr says. Brea sits down at the floor, leaned against the door. The fact that Rek’yr just saw her in her nightgown strikes her. He saw her nipples strain against the sheer white fabric, prickled by the cold morning air. He saw what her nightgown could not hide. And that was very impropper. “Brea, are you alright?” Rek’yr calls out to her. “Y-yes.” Brea replies.  
She gets up, determined to not let this get the better of her. She pulls a brand new dress from her wardrobe. A dress Tavra had gotten for her only days before the last tithing. She puts it on and sits down at her vanity table. She makes sure her hair looks regal enough and then heads back to the door.

Rek’yr is waiting for her. “I am sorry for my indecency.” Brea says. She employs the tone proper for a Princess caught sneaking tarts from the kitchen. It is all she knows to do in order to preserve her dignity in the eyes of her Sandmaster. “I barely noticed it.” Rek’yr says. Brea presses her ears against her skull. She suspects her suitor of a lie. “By the way your pace hurried to the door, I figured you were not yet dresses. I was careful to only look upon your face.” Rek’yr seems to guess her thoughts. Brea’s ears perk up a little again. Rek’yr chuckles gently and offers her his arm.  
“Come now, do not tell me you think I would lie to you.” Rek’yr cooes while Brea takes his arm. Brea’s ears droop a little. “I don’t think you lie… I just..” She bites her lip, not sure how to word it. Rek’yr patiently waits for her to find the right words. “I don’t want you to think of me as indecent or lewd.” Brea mutters. “I would never.” Rek’yr cooes gently at her.

After everyone has broken their fast, the farmers and the Drenchen head out to the farmlands around Ha’rar. The Spritons head out as well, but they don’t adhere to the same teams as the farmers and the warriors. They will help wherever they find they are needed.  
The farmer’s instruct the Drenchen on how to harvest the crop. The swamp dwellers pay close attention, to the mountain gelfling’s surprise. They careful copy the farmerś way of pulling roots from the ground, cutting vegetables from their stem, collecting grain and wheat and cutting the edible flowers the right way. Despite the Drenchen’s build for combat, they turn out to be very dextrous and careful where needed. And they heed advice very well.

Brea heads to the library. Rek’yr is at her arm and Djesid and Eeryn follow a few leaps behind. Eeryn more unseen than Djesid. Drenchen and Spriton keep watch outside the library. Rek’yr finds himself a seat. Brea leans over to press a kiss to his cheek and then dashes off. She talks busily to herself and dashes from side to side. She seems very happy to be reunited with the books, which amuses Rek’yr.  
Brea pulls a small piece of parchment from a satchell on her belt. On this parchment she has written down all the books she is sure she needs to take back to Stone-in-the-Wood. And of course nothing is where she thought she remembered it to be. In no time she is running to a fro, while Rek’yr watches her go about her search. The first book she finds is the big triangular tone on the Skeksis. She retrieves it to the Dousan. “What have we here?” He asks her. “The most important book in the whole library.” Brea hands him the black bound book. Rek’yr gently strokes the leather cover, exploring every detail of it with the tips of his fingers. Brea looks on, mildly fascinated by how gentle Rek’yr is with the book. She feels her heart swell.  
Rek’yr opens the book. Brea looks upon him, how handsome his face is in his concentration. She heaves a soft dreamy sigh. Rek’yr looks up from the book and sends her a gentle smile. Brea can’t help a giggle and whirls around. She walks off to find the next book. Rek’yr’s focus shifts back to the book.

Brea flutters back and forth. Books keep piling up around Rek’yr. “We can’t take all of them, love.” Rek’yr says. “I know, I know.” Brea brushes him off and retrieves four more books. Rek’yr leans back in his seat and looks at her. “Can you please come here and sort out which one’s to take, before you decide all of them ought to come to Stone-in-the-Wood.” He says. Brea comes over to him. Gently Rek’yr pulls her into his lap. He lifts a hand to stroke her face. But before he can, Brea laces her fingers with his. “I am only selecting what books we can really use and I am already halfway.” She says. “Very well, it is as you say.” Rek’yr brings their intertwined hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles. Brea giggles softly.  
She gets up from Rek’yr’s lap and stretched her wings. She flutters back to to the higher shelves of the library and resumes her task. She starts singing a song she remembers her mother singing when she was a childling. Rek’yr closes his eyes and listens to her singing. It makes him feel comfortable and at peace.

It is well in the afternoon when Brea judges she has parted the useful book from the useless.

“You ought to eat something.” Rek’yr says. Brea sits down upon a second chair, which stands along Rek’yr’s in between the piles of books. “Oh I would love to, I feel like I am starving.” She says. “Shall I retrieve you anything?” Rek’yr rises. “Oh please.” Brea replies. Rek’yr bends towards her and presses a kiss onto her forehead, before he leaves the library.

He is swift to return. He brings a large jug of fruit juice and steaming hot buns. Brea is patiently waiting for him. In her lap she has a small book. Rek’yr sit down beside her. He pours her a glass of juice. “Here, stay hydrated.” He says. Brea looks up from her book. She giggles at him. “Now what is funny?” Rek’yr asks. “A desert dweller telling me to stay hydrated.” Brea titters. Rek’yr chuckles.  
“What are you reading?” The Dousan asks. Brea’s ear flush. “Oh .. it is nothing.” She closes the small book. Rek’yr shakes his head. “I don’t believe that.” He says. He gently takes the book and leafs through it. “Brea, this is a children’s book.” There is no mockery in Rek’yr’s voice. He only sounds genuinely puzzled. His ears turn towards Brea all the way. Brea’s ears flush. “It’s the fairytales Seladon used to read me, when I was just a childling.” She mutters. “Mother never had time for it. So Seladon read me, she did separate voices and everything.” Brea sighs a soft sigh. Rek’yr smiles widely at her. “That is lovely.” Rek’yr puts the book on top of the big triangular lexicon. “We will take this one.” He says gently. “Truly?” Brea asks, her eyes shimmering. Rek’yr nods. “Of course.” He purrs.  
Brea jumps up from her seat and throws herself at Rek’yr. His chair proves firmer, as it stays upright when she flings herself into his lap. Rek’yr laughs heartily and puts his arms around her waist. Brea rains butterfly kisses on his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She all but cheers.

Brea and Rek’yr take their lunch while reading through the books Brea selected.

They are barely half way when the door of the library creaks open. “Princess, m’lord, the Spriton say dinner is ready.” Djesid peaks in. Rek’yr groans softly and puts down the book he has been leafing through. “That is about time, too.” He says. He rises from his chair. “Brea, my love.” He cooes to draw the Vapran Princess’ attention. Brea only reluctantly looks up from the book she is reading. “Tis dinner time, we will continue this task upon the morrow.” Says Rek’yr. Brea sigh softly. She puts her book away and rises.  
Rek’yr offers her his arm. Brea smiles sweetly at him. He leads her from the library. They follow Djesid to the castle. Eeryn follows behind, unseen, hopping from roof to roof.

At dinner, it turns out only half the Drenchen have shown up and barely any of the farmers. All of the Spirton and the few Paladin that ventured along are there tho.

“Where are the farmers and the warriors?” Brea asks. A stout Drenchen gelf clears her throat. Brea looks to her. “A lot of the farmers decided to spend the night at their old homes. They invited us to stay over. Some took em up on that offer.” The Drenchen says. Brea’s lips twist up in a wide smile. “That is amazing news.” She says. “The lines between the clans are blurring, the age of resistance is truly coming into blood.” Rek’yr purrs. The Drenchen spontaneously begin to cheer.  
During dinner, the Drenchen and Spriton talk about the harvest. Brea finds her fingers itch to take notes, so she can report to Seladon. But she has no parchment with her, nor any ink. She tries her best to commit everything to her memory, but is quite sure she will not manage to repeat half of it.

Brea tries to stifle a jawn. Rek’yr gets up from his seat. “I think it is time to go to bed.” He says. He helps Brea to her feet. “I am not tired yet.” Brea mutters. Rek’yr can’t help a laugh. “Now say that again, with more conviction.” He cooes. Brea’s ears droop a little. “You’re right…” She mutters. “Very well, to bed you go.” Rek’yr twines his fingers with Brea’s. Brea’s ears flush a gentle pink.  
Rek’yr leads Brea from the dining hall, to her chambers. “We had a productive day, all of us.” Brea says. “Why yes indeed, I believe we did.” Rek’yr agrees. He opens the door of her chambers for her. “We deserved a rest.” Brea’s ears droop. She seems a bit awkward. “Yes, we did.” Rek’yr nods. He feels there is something going on in Brea’s head, but he can’t put his finger on what it is just yet.  
Brea flutters her wings and brushes her hair behind her ear. “I … erm … would you like to come in, just for a few more minutes.” She mumbles. “Yes, of course.” Rek’yr nods. He follows Brea into her chambers. He looks around, taking in the place where the Princess that holds his heart grew up in. “Is there anything in here that you wish to take to Stone-in-the-Wood?” He asks. Brea makes a thoughtful sound. “You.” She then answers. Rek’yr laughs joyfully. “Very well, to Stone-in-the-Wood you may take me.” The Sandmaster puts his hands on Brea’s hips.

“S-say, Rek’yr, would you close your eyes for me, just for a minute.” Brea asks softly. “Naturally, what for?” Rek’yr asks playfully. Brea’s ears turn bright red. “J-just a little surprise.” She stammers. “Alright, alright.” Rek’yr purrs. He closes his eyes and his ears turn upwards.  
Brea feels her heart hammer in her chest. But she is determined to do this. She puts her hands on Rek’yr’s biceps. Very carefully she stands on her tippy toes. “Brea…?” Rek’yr all but singsongs. “Hush.” Brea replies. Rek’yr sort of frowns, but remains silent.  
Brea takes heart. She presses her lips against Rek’yr’s own in a very experimental way. Rek’yr’s grip on her hips tightens a little, but that is all that shows the Dousan’s surprise. He ever so gently kisses her back.


	5. Blurring Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Drenchen shenaningans and more Brea x Rek'yr

Brea tenses. Her nails dig into Rek’yr’s muscles, even through the fabric of his tunic. Rek’yr gently rubs the pads of his fingers on her hip in an attempt to calm her down. Brea pulls back, falling back down onto her feet. “I .. I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “No need to be.” Rek’yr says sweetly. He leans down to close the distance again. The kiss they share is firmer this time around. Brea feels like her heart is going to give out. But she kisses back all the same. Rek’yr pulls her a little bit closer against his body.  
Brea back off again. She leans her head against his chest. She heaves a happy sigh. “That was very nice.” She mumbles. “Was that your first kiss?” Rek’yr asks. Brea flusters and nods. “That was very bold of you to do.” Rek’yr says gently. “I wanted it to be special for you too.” Brea mumbles. “It would have been special either way Brea, because it is with you. But I must say that you continue to impress me, in your own little ways.” The Dousan murrs. 

Brea begins to jawn again. “It is time for you to go to bed, my love.” Rek’yr says. Brea nods. “I believe you are right.” She mutters. Rek’yr nods. “Good night, my love.” He says. He presses another soft kiss to Brea’s lips. “Best of dreams.” Brea whispers. “You too.” Rek’yr walks to the door. “Wait!” Brea calls out. Rek’yr turns back to her. She flies over and flings herself into his arms. The kiss they share is fierce and a little desperate.   
Brea is slightly out of breath, when she parts form her suitor. “Sleep well.” She cooes. “You too.”Rek’yr chuckles. He leaves Brea’s chamber, but only with reluctance. Brea stares at the door, even a long while after it shut behind Rek’yr. Her lips still tingle from his kisses and she has no idea what to do with the warmth that has settled into the pit of her stomach. She is rather unfamiliar with these type of feelings. She wishes Tavra were here, to advise her.   
She changed into her nightshift and crawls under the sheets. She doesn’t fall asleep right away. Thoughts of the Sandmaster keep her awake. The smooth warmth of his lips and his spicy scent. Something inside her becomes ready, although Brea doesn’t quite understand how to address this readiness. It is warm and slippery and raises gooseflesh on her arms and spine. She tosses and turns, unable to adequately address this readiness, or do something about it. 

Once she finally falls asleep, she lands into a nightmare. Her mother lays dying, while SkekMal feasts on her flesh. The Scrollkeeper holds poor Brea by the shoulders, so she cannot escape. The other Skeksis stand by and laugh, in their cruel and evil ways. Brea screams and struggles to go free.  
She wakes up, bathing in cold sweat. It relieves her to find she is in her own bed, but she against startles. For at her bedside she finds Rek’yr. He is dressed in naught but a nightblue kimono. “Brea, are you alright?” He asks. Brea shakes her head. “I had a nightmare…” She whispers. “You are safe now. I will not leave your side.” The Dousan cooes. The Dousan extends his hand to stroke Brea’s cheek. She desperately leans into his touch. He is the only thing making her feel safe at this moment. “Will you really stay?” She mumbles. “Yes, of course I will.” Rek’yr cooes.

Brea scoots over. “I don’t want you to be seated all night.” She says softly. “You should not ask this of me, princess.” The Sandmaster objects, but it is without much conviction. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Brea protests. Rek’yr chuckles softly. “Very well, I give in.” He ties the sash of his robe tighter around his waist.  
Brea’s eyes venture from the Dousan’s yellow eyes to the pronounced plates of his chest. Rek’yr’s skin is hues of blue and green. Lower Brea looks, to her suitor’s abdominal muscles and the wicked bone of his hip. Only his crotch his truly obscured by the robe’s nightblue cloth.   
Rek’yr clears his throat. Brea startles and looks back up at his eyes. The bright yellow shines playfully at her. Rek’yr rises from the bedside chair. Brea now notices his robes reach all the way to the floor. She gets little chance to marvel at it, though. Rek’yr blows out the lantern on her nightstand and the only light remaining is that of the sisters, peeking in from a slit between the curtains.

The covers lift up and Rek’yr climbs in bed with her. His body radiates warmth, which Brea instantly gravitates towards. She lays her head on his chest. The beating of his heart puts her at ease. Rek’yr noses at her hair. “Sleep now, my sweet. In my arms you are safe.” He murrs.   
Slowly Brea nods off. She knows herself warm and secure in her Sandmaster’s arms. She sinks into dreams of nightblue silk and hot wet sensations. They have no true story or shape, but them seem to all smell like Rek’yr.

Brea wakes when Rek’yr slips out of her bed. Two of the three brothers have already risen. “Hmm… where are you going?” Already she feels the loss of his warmth. “Make my water and get dressed.” Rek’yr replies. Brea huffs. “Can’t you come back to bed?” She asks. “We have already overslept, the third brother is about to rise.” Rek’yr makes his way to the door. Brea hides her face in the pillows. “Time to get up my love.” Rek’yr says. “Alright, alright.” Brea groans. But she wraps herself in the sheets, basking in Rek’yr’s scent. But without him, her bed grows too cold, too quickly. She gets up and heads to her bathroom.  
She makes her water and washes up. She puts on a clean dress, one that fits a bit tighter around her hips and chest. She hopes to impress her suitor, in the same way he impresses her. She rebraids a few of her smaller plaids and heads out.  
Rek’yr is waiting outside her door. He is dressed in his usual garb, but most of his braids are undone and pulled out of the high ponytail. His hair, in shades of blue and purple, falls over his shoulders, a river of waves. Brea finds it breathtaking. “Good morrow, dearest.” Rek’yr purrs. Brea presses herself against him. “Good morrow, my love.” She cooes. Rek’yr gently takes her by the waist. He leans in to press his lips on hers. It seems that, now that they have breached this barrier, the Sandmaster won’t hesitate to be straight forward with it. At first, mostly on instinct, Brea’s body stiffens a little. But it is only a second, before she melts into the kiss. 

Rek’yr leads Brea to the library. But not before nipping past the kitchen for something to break their fast on. Soon they are seated. They eat what the Spriton have given them. Once they are done, they start back up with selecting which books to take.

Out on the fields, the Drenchen are already singing as they work. A farmer and his wife oversee four of them. Three gellings and a gelf. The gelf is slightly taller than the gelling’s. The shortest and broadest of the gelling’s leads the singing. His voice is a deep baritone, but sounds very joyful. They sing about three lovers chasing each other around the Great Smerth.   
The farmer and his wife are a bit abashed by the song at first. But quick enough they warm to the harmony of the four voices. The farmer even starts to sing along. The Drenchen send him warm smiles. They load turnips and tubers onto the wagon, as the farmer has indicated.

After a good while, the farmer’s wife comes to the field with a kettle of tea and a tray of sandwiches. “Come take a break for a while.” She says. The Drenchen gather around her. “That looks wonderful, missy.” Says the tallest of the gellings. “Oh, please call me Elvyra.” The Farmer’s wife says. “Elvyra it is.” The Drenchen gelf affirms. “What of your names?” Asks the Farmer.  
“My name is Koora.” The gelf offers both her hands, palms up to the Farmer. “I am Allonys, it is good to meet you, Koora of the Drenchen.” The Farmer knows this greeting. He touches the tips of his fingers to Koora’s palms. “And you, Allonys of the Vapra.” Koora replies.   
“These are Meho,” Koora gestures to the shortest gelling, who has the baritone singing voice. “Ola,” She indicates the gelling with the wide hips and nicked ears. “And Tirzan.” Tirzan is the tallest of the four, wide in the shoulders, but narrow in the waist and hips. He has pierced lips and feathers hanging on rings in his ears. The Farmer gives the last gelling a bit of suspicious look.   
Meho, Ola and Tirzan offer their hands to the Farmer and his wife as well, palms up, just like Koora. Allonys touches his fingertips to their palms. Koora takes the tray and kettle from Elvyra and she repeats her husbands gesture. “Well met.” She says softly. “Well met.” The three Drenchen gelling chorus. 

The farmer’s wife spreads a blanket by the wagon and the small group sits down. Elvyra pours everyone a cup of tea and hands out sandwiches. The Drenchen dig in right away. They talk happily while they eat. This puzzles both Allonys and Elvyra. Vapran gelfling are used to eating in silence, whereas Drenchen barely even sleep in silence.  
The Drenchen tell the Farmer and his Wife about the Great Smerth and the Swamp of Sog. Especially Elvyra is very interested in the Drenchen’s tales. She asks about their customs and their songs. Which of course prompt Meho and Ola to start singing again.

After lunch, the Drenchen set to work again, overseen by Allonys. Elvyra returns to the homestead to gather some things she wants to bring to Stone-in-the-Wood.

The brother’s have mostly sunken when the entire field is emptied. Allonys mops the sweat from his brow. “All done, and so quick too. I am so grateful for you four.” He wheezes. “Our pleasure.” Ola says. “Let’s go home and see if the wife has dinner done.” Allonys says. Tirzan and Koora grab the cart and the five of them head to the homestead.  
There, Elvyra has indeed already made dinner. “Right on time too.” She says. “Wash your hand and your face and sit down.” She motions to the large basin of water. The Drenchen and Allonys wash their hands and sit down as instructed.   
Elvyra serves dinner. “That smells amazing, my dear.” Allonys says. “Yes, ma’am, it does.” Meho agrees. “Well, dig in.” Elvyra cooes. Tirzan and Meho make to grab food with their bare hands. But before they can get to it, Koora swats at their hands. “Naia said not to make our hosts uncomfortable.” She hisses. The gelling hang their ears. “Now grab your utensils, we are in a Vapran home.” Koora says. The gelling oblige.

After dinner, Koora grabs a small bongo and hands Ola a lute. While Elvyra and Allonys do the dishes, the Drenchen provide a good show. They try to sing some of the least bawdy songs they know. Allonys even tries to sing along.

In the meanwhile, in the center of Ha’rar, another Drenchen is almost nodding off. He startles as he feels something hit the back of his head. “Who goes there?!?” He shouts. There is a soft sniggering from a nearby tree. “Show yourself!” Djesid all but yells. “Only if you leave the watch to me and go the heck to bed.” He recognises Eeryn’s voice. “But they are still in there!” He protests.  
Just that moment, Rek’yr and Brea exit the library. “My Thra, I am hungry.” Brea says. “We will see if the Spriton have some leftovers.” Rek’yr replies. The two lovebirds head back to the citadel. Djesid scampers after them. Eeryn jumps out of her tree and follows them.   
Brea turns around. “You two are excused for the night, find yourself a nice inn and relax.” She tells them. “Are you sure, Princess?” Eeryn asks stiffly. Brea nods. “There are plenty of warriors and paladins in the Citadel around this time.” She replies. “Very well.” Eeryn leaps into the nearest tree. “Alright, have a good night.” Djesid sends Rek’yr a wink. The Dousan shakes his head, but also chuckles. He and Brea head into the Citadel.   
Djesid heads off in the same direction as Eeryn. “Oi, ye sprite, wait a sec.” He calls out. “I have a name.” Eeryn calls from somewhere above. “Where the fuck are you even going?” Djesid asks. “Heh, I’ll see.” Eeryn is ahead of him by a good ten paces. Djesid runs to catch up. “Come on, wait up, we can go together.” He says. “Well, hurry up, then slowpoke.” By the sound of it, Eeryn is even further ahead of him. Djesid groans. It seems like catching up with her is an impossible task.

In the end, though, Eeryn finds an abandoned inn, swinging into the still open second story window. Djesid opens the front door, which is not locked. Eeryn is already waiting for him, sitting on the bar counter. “That is about time, Drenchen.” She hops down and starts rummaging around the kitchen. Djesid walks over to the bar and spots a small barrel of wine. “Can’t you have a bit of patience, Spriton.” He says, good natured.   
He starts looking for cups. He quickly find them under the counter and grabs two. He pulls the stopper out of the barrel of wine. He fills two cups and stoppers the wine again. He saunters lazily into the kitchen. Eeryn is inspecting a haunch of salted meat.   
“Here.” Djesid says, extending the cup of wine to her. She looks up and frowns at him. “What is that?” She asks. “Wine.” He replies. “Did you check if it has no gone bad?” She asks sharply. “It’s wine, it won’t go back from just sitting in a barrel on a bar counter.” Djesid grumbles. He takes a bit swing from his cup and smacks his lips. “Perfectly fine, if a little sweet.” He says. “ ut suit yourself, I suppose. I’ll have that Nebrie chop and be out of your hair.” He puts down the second cup and strides of to inspect a large piece of what looks like smoked Nerbie. He draws it from the hook and retrieves it to the taproom.

Djesid is surprised when Eeryn sits beside him at the bar counter. She puts down a bowl of salted nuts and peppered dried fruits. “Here, have some.” She says. She drinks deeply of her wine. Djesid draws his dirks and cuts her a slice of the Nerbie. Eeryn gives him a wain smile. “Thanks.” She mutters, even though it is a little reluctant.   
They sip their wine and eat their nuts, fruits and Nebrie. They are silent to each other. Djesid starts growing a little uncomfortable. As a Drenchen he is not used to silences like this. It is not a silence in which he stalks his prey through the swamp. It is not a silence in which he enjoys the song of Thra’s creatures. It is oppressive and awkward.   
The only thing Djesid knows to do is to take another cup of wine. Eeryn holds out her own as well. Djesid fills it back up. They drink and the silence stretches on. They finish the nuts and the fruits and over half of the Nebrie. 

They get very drunk. The both of them. Djesid begins a long story of his coming of age ceremony. Eeryn listens in fascination. 

She climbs into his lap. Djesid grins widely, baring his tusks and fangs. “Howdy there, pretty one.” He speaks without slurring. “Shit, your voice is so sexy.” Eeryn says and her ears turn bright red. Djesid leans over and nips at one almond shaped ear. Eeryn does her best to suppress a moan, but does not manage. “That sounds fucking amazing.” Djesid purrs. He repeats the ministration. Eeryn squirms in his lap.   
Soon enough they are kissing. Eeryn’s fingers tangle in Djesid’s dreads-and-braids hair. Djesid grabs her firmly by the hips. Their tongues battle for dominance. Eeryn wins. Djesid groans into her mouth. Eeryn grinds down on him. Djesid has to break the kiss to groan.

He lifts Eeryn up and slips from his barstool. He carries her to the second story, to a room with a large bed. He tosses her down and crawls over her. He kisses her breath away.

At the citadel, everyone has already retired to their beds, save for Brea. Rek’yr is the only one still by her side. She sits in front of her mother’s vanity. Rek’yr places her hand on her shoulder. “Brea, you need sleep. Tis time to go to bed.” He cooes. She looks up at him. She is not crying, but looks close to tears. “Come.” Rek’yr says gently.   
Brea heaves a sigh and gets up. She twines her fingers with Rek’yr’s and allows the Dousan gelling to lead her to her own chambers.

“Please stay.” She asks, opening the door to her chambers. “Brea, I …” Rek’yr begins. “No, just stay.” Brea says, loudly. Rek’yr perks his ears up, a little startled. “I feel safer when you are with me. I could have another nightmare.” Brea says. “Very well, very well.” Rek’yr puts his hands up in surrender.   
Brea keeps a close eye on him as he enters her chambers. She closes and locks her doors. It is the first time in her whole life she uses the key. Her mother had always forbade her from using it. She puts the key on her vanity and can’t help the gnawing guilty feeling in her gut.  
But that feeling quickly subsides when she turns to Rek’yr and finds him taking off his doublet. She remains silent as she watches him undress without hurry. Every motion is, to Brea, the very epitome of grace. Rek’yr seems not to notice he is being observed and calmly continues with his deep purple jerkin. Brea has to bite back a gasp. Rek’yr is simply so handsome. He undoes the lacing of his breeches.   
Brea quickly flees behind her dressing screen. She isn’t sure if she is quite prepared for seeing Rek’yr in his small clothes just yet. If he wears small clothes at all, that is! It did not seem so the previous day. 

She changes her dress for her nightshift. She peeks around the screen and finds Rek’yr already abed. “Are you coming, dearest?” He calls out to her. Brea shyly erupts from behind the screen. Rek’yr sits up to look at her. Brea covers her chest with her arms. She isn’t exactly shy, but Rek’yr’s gaze is rather intense.   
She hurries over to the bed and practically dives under the covers. Rek’yr chuckles gently at her antics. “Are you cold, Brea.” He teases. “Yep.” Brea says and snuggles against him, giggling to herself. Rek’yr puts an arm around her. He extinguishes the bedside lantern and pulls Brea as close as he can manage. Brea noses into him and stifles a yawn. “Sweet dreams, dearest.” Rek’yr purrs. “Sweet dreams.” Brea mumbles.

Sleep won’t come to either of them, though. Brea is too sharply aware of Rek’yr proximity. Every breath she takes brings more of his scent into her sensitive nose. And the more of it she breathes in, the better he smells. That unaddressed and newfound readiness rears it’s head again. Brea grits her back teeth together in order not to let out a soft whimper.   
Rek’yr is not at all ignorant to what Brea feels. He can smell her. “Sweetling, why do you lay awake?” He murmurs warmly. Brea can feel her ears heat up and is thankful Rek’yr can’t see her. “I .. I don’t know.” She mumbles. Because she truly doesn’t. Her mother never bothered to instruct her on the precise intricacies of sexuality. Sure, Brea knows where the babies come from, but she never got told the juice details.   
“I think I might.” Rek’yr cooes. There is something husky and very sexy in his voice. Brea feels fluster draw from her ears onto her cheeks. “H-how can you know what it is?” She sputters. “I can smell it.” The Dousan answers. Brea feels shame rise to her cheek now as well. She hides her face in his chest.   
“It strikes me, Brea, that you are very innocent in the practical ways of intimacy.” Rek’yr says gently. “I .. I just never met anyone like you… Mother said I would wed someone of the Vapran aristocracy… But I never cared for any of them, especially not those of my own age.” Brea mumbles. She feels some of the heat leave her face, now that she is talking about something more mundane. “So, our kisses yesterday?” Rek’yr asks coyly. “My very first,” Brea confirms. “I am very honoured.” Rek’yr murrs. 

Brea feels how Rek’yr turns to his side. His hand finds her cheek. Gently his fingers play with a stray strand of hair and slide upwards to trace the shell of her ear. Brea closes her eyes to enjoy the ministrations. Rek’yr closes the distance between them. Their lips mold together in a sensual fashion. Brea can’t suppress a little moan.   
She tangels her fingers into Rek’yr’s braids. Rek’yr pulls her close by her hip. Brea is too occupied with the kiss to be very surprised with the fact that Rek’yr wears nothing but a loincloth. She even presses against him a bit firmer. Although she does freeze up for a brief moment when Rek’yr’s tongue trails over her lips. It’s brief though, she is swift to recover and part her lips a little bit. Rek’yr’s tongue ventures into her mouth. She lets slip another soft moan. Rek’yr groans back at her.   
His hand ventures to the back of her thigh. Brea freezes up when he brings her leg up to wrap around his own hip. She puts her hand on his chest to halt him. Their kiss slowly breaks. “Too fast?” Rek’yr asks. “Just a little.” Brea mumbles softly. Rek’yr gently let’s go of her thigh. “I am sorry.” He cooes. “No need to be, you couldn’t have known.” Brea murrs.

She resumes the kiss, but keeps her leg to herself. Rek’yr does not even seem to mind. He settles for cupping her cheek instead. Brea is perfectly fine with that. 

After a good while they break apart. Brea cuddles up against Rek’yr. “Sweet dreams.” She mutters. “Sleep well, love.” Rek’yr murmurs. He kisses her on her forehead.   
Brea is quick to nod off, feeling safe in Rek’yr’s arms. After a while she turns to her other side, so Rek’yr is spooning her back. Rek’yr noses his face into her hair and dozes off too. Both dream peaceful dreams and rest well. Together they are at peace.

The following morrow, Djesid awakes with a slight start. Beside him he finds Eeryn still asleep. He really wants to cuddle back up to her, but nature calls. He slips out of bed and runs to the privy.   
Once he has made his water, he goes back to bed. But upon arrival, he finds the bed empty. Eeryn has already left. She’s taken her clothes and bag with her, a firm indicator she is not coming back. Djesid groans and dresses himself. He figures he could as well starts the day.   
He heads back to the center of Ha’rar. He finds the Princess and her Sandmaster in the library. And Eeryn in a nearby tree. “Good morrow.” He yells to her. The Spriton gelf does not reply. Djesid crinkles his nose. “Ryn, what is the matter?” The Drenchen calls out to her. Eeryn makes no reply, she only climbs a few branches higher. “Oh come on!” Djesid calls out. Eeryn blows something hard through her pipe, hitting Djesid square on the forehead. “Ouch, fuck!” Djesid yells, rubbing his forehead. Eeryn can be heard laughing and muttering something of which Djesid can only understand ‘Drenchen’.

The harvest proceeds swiftly. The Drenchen are hard workers if there were ever any and the Spriton are exceedingly pleased with the crops growth. The Vapran farmers couldn’t wish for better help.  
Rek’yr and Brea select an array of books to take back to Stone-in-the-Wood. Brea even chooses some dresses of Seladon and herself to take back. And all the non perishables the Spritons has no yet used for supper is loaded onto the wagons as well.

Rek’yr finds Brea talming at the door of her mother’s chambers. “It is time.” He says. “I know.” She mutters. “I am just saying goodbye. I don’t expect I will return here, ever again.” She looks at Rek’yr over her shoulder. He gently takes her by the hand. “I know it is not easy, but we should not wait with accepting the journey ahead for too long.” He tells her softly. Brea heaves a big sigh.   
“Come.” Rek’yr murrs. Brea closes the door of her mother’s chambers and allows Rek’yr to draw her gently away. They make their way to the throne room, where everyone is waiting. “This is where I found Lore.” Brea whispers. Her eyes seek out the stone guardian, who has been as vigilant as the Drenchen and Spriton assigned to her.   
Everyone looks to Brea. She takes a deep breath and tries to puff out her chest. Instead she only ruffles her gossamer wings. “Farmers, Spriton, Drenchen, I want to thank you for your effort and your hard work these past days.” She says. She does her best to emulate her mother. “Today we will leave Ha’rar for the last time.” Just saying it brings her close to tears. “Tis time to go.” She turns her back to the crowd, stretching her wings like she has seen her mother done a great many times, making sure she keeps them straight. Rek’yr smiles at her and offers her his arm. Brea gladly takes it, finding comfort in his warmth. 

Rek’yr escorts Brea to the carriage. Djesid and Eeryn follow close behind. She looks back at the citadel one last time. “Goodbye mother.” She whispers. She allows Rek’yr to give her a leg up into the carriage. He joins her inside at once. Eeryn, unnoticed by the couple within, hops onto the back of the carriage.   
It takes a few minutes for the carriage driver to hook up the landstriders and get up on his seat on the front of the carriage. “Off we go, hya!” He calls. The landstriders gurgle and begin their way out of Ha’rar. 

The journey back to Stone-in-the-Wood takes longer than the journey to Ha’rar. This is only a small wonder, because the carts are now piled full with the harvest and other things taken from Ha’rar.

The first night the group stays at a small Vapran village. Brea and Rek’yr meet with the village elders.   
Eeryn comes up to replace Djesid for guard duty. She does not even look at him. Djesid tries to say hello, but the way she turns her back on him makes his words die on his tongue. 

Brea sits down with the town elders, two gelfs and one gelling. Rek’yr stands behind her chair, his hands on her shoulders. “You can join our column to Stone-in-the-Wood, so you are safe.” Brea says. The two elder women cluck and the man looks absolutely flummoxed.   
“We will weather this storm.” The elder gelling says. “No, you won’t. The Skeksis will leave no gelfling alive. Come with use to Stone-in-the-Wood, from there you can be given a safe new home.” Brea pleades. But the elder shake their heads.   
“Listen to your princess, for she speaks with the All Maudra’s voice.” Rek’yr thunders. The elders give the Dousan a slightly frightened look. “You will be given a good home at Sami Thickett or the Stonewood’s hidden villages.” He says, his tone gentler. “The All Maudra wants all of you out of danger.” Brea adds. She reaches up to touch Rek’yr’s hand with her own. 

The Elders agree.

Rek’yr catches a swoothu and Brea writes a note to Rian and Seladon. They need to know that there are more people on their way to Stone-in-the-Wood.  
With Dousan vliyaya, Rek’yr tells the swoothu where it needs to deliver the note. 

Vacating the village takes three days. The march after that goes even slower. Now there are elder gelfling and childlings in their ranks.

Night has already fallen when they arrive at Stone-in-the-Wood. The twins are waiting, torches in their hand. The Drenchen in the column whistle a secret signal and they whistle back. Naia approaches the Spriton and motions them to help with the landstriders that draw the carriage. Even though the Spriton are all but exhausted, they diligently find a spot to safely tuck away the carriage so it is not in anyone’s way and unharness the Landstriders. Gurjin goes over to the carriage to see if he can assist Rek’yr or Brea.   
The Dousan wobbles on his way out and Gurjin grabs him by the shoulder to steady him. “Long ride?” He asks. “I am more accustomed to Sand Skimmers than carriages.” Rek’yr says. He sends Gurjin a small smile in gratitude. He turns to the carriage to help Brea out, but his legs are still unsteady. “Let me.” Gurjin gently butts him aside and holds his hands out to Brea. “Thank you Gurjin.” Brea titters, allowing him to help her down. Her legs are unsteady too.   
Gurjin turns to Naia. “I am getting these two to their cottages, you make sure all the childlings gets a comfy bed.” He says. Naia nods. Gurjin gestures to Brea and Rek’yr. “You good to walk?” He asks. “I don’t think so.” Brea mumbles, her legs feel more than just a little numb. Gurjin sweeps her off her feet with a bit of a flourish. Brea yelps, but puts her arm around Gurjin’s neck to stay stable. “What are you doing?” Rek’yr all but yells. “Don’t you think you would topple over, with the way you are walking.” Gurjin replies, not at all bothered. 

The Drenchen first makes sure Rek’yr is safe and sound inside his own cottage. “Good night, my love.” The Dousan says to Brea. He leans in to kiss her, but Gurjin takes a step back. “All due respect, but the only one I want to see snog with a woman in my arms is Rian.” Gurjin says. “She’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He winks at Rek’yr.   
He turns on his heels and heads to the All Maudra’s cottage. He knocks by ramming his knee against the door. There is a rusting inside. The door opens after a moment of waiting. Seladon looks a bit angered with the disturbance at first, but her expression changes when she sees Brea. “Oh thank Thra you’re back!” She propells herself forward with her wings to hug Brea. But because Gurjin is holding Brea, he gets in on the embrace as well. “Seladon, I’m fine.” Brea mumbles. “I was worried sick.” Seladon all but sobs, one arm around Brea’s shoulder and one around Gurjin’s neck.   
“How about I leave you two alone.” Gurjin says. He stoops down and Brea gets the hint. Nimbly she jumps from his arms. “Good night.” He says. “Good night, Gurjin.” The sisters chorus. They watch as the Drenchen turns on his heels and towards his clansmen. “They probably have a lot to tell him.” Brea says. “As you will have to me, but you ought to go to sleep first, you look exhausted.” Seladon replies. 

Brea is steered to her bed alcove and helped out of her dress. The moment her head touches the pillow, she is asleep. Seladon sits beside her bed for a small while before retiring to her own.

Brea dreams of Deet. She is wearing pure white clothes that don’t seem typical to any clan. There are purple flowers, seemingly sprouting from her hair. She is dancing with her eyes closed, like she has not a worry in the world. But that is all Brea dreams. She dreams of it for what seems a long time. It is a good dream and Brea, in the back of her slumbering brain, hopes it can come true.

She wakes when Seladon gently pats her on the shoulder. “Time for a bath, you are dirty from the road.” Seladon says. Brea groans and rolls herself in her sheets. “Five more minutes.” She grumbles. “No, you are coming out of bed.” Seladon uses the tone of voice she remembers her mother using with Brea when she was willfull. “Ugh fine.” Brea sits up. She keeps her sheets around her though. “Come.” Seladon says, a bit more forceful than their mother used to. It does rouse Brea from her bed.  
The two women head to the bath house, which has been cleared out by Paladin to make sure the All Maudra and the Princess have perfect privacy. Two Paladin are stationed by the entrance. One of them is the Paladin with strawberry red tresses. “Good morning, my lady.” The Paladin says. “Good morning Maurix.” Seladon replies, sending him a smile. She and Brea enter the bathhouse

The sisters luxuriate in the water before washing each other’s hair. Brea braids Seladon’s hair and then Seladon plaids Brea’s. While they bathe, the sisters gossip. Seladon tells Brea all the small things that happened in Stone-in-the-Wood. About Naia and Onica sneaking off together a lot. About Gurjin being the go to babysit. And of course about her Paladin. And Brea tells Seladon small things about her visit to Ha’rar. But she does not tell her sister that Rek’yr spend a few nights in her bed.  
They dry off and get dressed. “It is time for the council.” Seladon says. “Can we first have breakfast?” Brea asks. Her belly growls. Seladon chuckles softly in response. “We will find something to eat, we can break out fast at the council table.” She says. She sweeps out of the bathhouse with all the grace she lays claim to, as the All Maudra. Brea follows her, feeling only half as graceful.

“Brea! You’re back!” Kylan hurries to catch up with both Silverlings. “Kylan, how good to see you!” Brea stops in her tracks and opens her arms to receive Kylan in a hug. Kylan hugs her happily. “It is good to see you too Brea. We all have missed you.” He replies. They part and smile at each other. Brea’s stomach growls again. Kylan giggles behind his hand. “How about I find you two some breakfast and meet you in the council chambers?” He asks. “Yes, thank you.” Seladon says. Kylan turges off. 

Brea and Seladon go to the council chambers. They are the first there. But soon enough Betram and Asgret come in together, talking gently. Gurjin and Naia follow a minute later, bickering about something or the other. Kylan comes in, steaming hot bums in his hands. Onica comes in right after him. “Breakfast.” He says, taking his seat beside Brea. He hands her and Seladon the buns.   
Rek’yr comes in, leading Maudra Agrot to her seat. Brea looks up at him. “Good morning.” She says. “Good Morning, dearest.” Rek’yr purrs. He sits down opposite Brea. The table is too wide for her to be able to touch him, which causes her ears to droop a little.   
Rian is the last to enter. “Council is in session.” He says, before taking his seat. Everyone turns to face him. “Brea and Rek’yr are back and I am sure they have a lot to tell us.” Rian says. Heads now turn to Brea and Rek’yr. “How was Ha’rar?” Seladon asks. “Calm.” Rek’yr replies. “Nothing happened, safe for what we set out to do.” Brea adds.   
“All the crop has been harvested, all the non perishables have been taken and Rek’yr and I too all the books we thought useful.” She says. “I made a list of everything we took from Ha’rar, I can get it for you.” She turns to Rian. The Stonewood shakes his head. “We will go over that later.” He says.   
“We have something else to discuss.” Seladon says. “The Stonewood villagers, who will need to be housed. Especially the elders and those with small children.” Rian adds. “We could send for the Great Smerth, but I doubt the Stonewoods like Sog as much as us Drenchen.” Naia says. “I will send a Swoothu to the Wellspring, I am sure Maudra Seethi wants to help.” Rek’yr replies. “And what if she doesn’t?” Seladon asks sharply. “She does.” Rek’yr answers firmly. “But just in case she doesn’t, they can move on to Sami Thickett for the time being.” Kylan says. “See, that is something I can work with.” Seladon looks at Rek’yr like she doesn’t hold the Dousan in very high esteem.   
“Both Kylan and Rek’yr will send a swoothu, the more safe places we have, the better.” Rian says, trying to sound firm. Gurjin gives him an encouraging nod. “I think that concludes the council for now. Let’s get prepping for the feast.” Says Naia. “Oh we should, I was going to bake special sweet bread.” Kylan agrees. They both look to Rian. “All Maudra?” Rian looks to Seladon. She nods. “Work hard. Brea, you go get your list. Rian and I will go over it with you.” She says. 

Everyone rises, safe for Rian. Brea leaves the council chambers with Rek’yr. Seladon sends them a vexed look. “What does she see in him?” She asks. Rian’s ears droop. He isn’t overtly fond of Rek’yr either, but the Dousan has proven himself an astute and keen council member. “I am not quite sure, but I also consider it none of my business.” He replies. Seladon huffs, not satisfied with the answer.   
Brea returns with her list, but without her Dousan. Rian can see the relief on Seladon’s face. “Now show us the harvest.” Seladon motions her sister to sit down opposite her. Brea takes the seat. She passes the list to Rian rather than Seladon. Rian scans the lists of vegetables and wheats. He hemms and hawws over it for a little and then hands it over to Seladon.   
“This is quite the good harvest, despite the crops being affected by the blight.” Says the All Maudra. “Yes, we were very glad.” Brea agrees. “I will have to check to see how to store this.” Rian mutters. “Do it quickly, before the harvest perishes.” Says Seladon. “I will, right away.” Rian rises. Seladon crinkles her nose, but does not argue. She just watches Rian leave. Brea gets up as well. “I am going to help him.” She says. And out she rushes. 

Brea quickly catches up with Rian. She giggles and grabs him by the arm. “It is so good to be back.” She says. “When I was in Ha’rar I thought leaving it behind was going to be hard, but now that I am here again, I know this is where my home is. With all of you.” She eagerly rattles on. Rian’s ears perk up. “Good to hear.” He says happily.   
Rian pulls a few Stonewoods aside and asks them to take stock of the stores. They immediately dash off to do as he asks. They understand the importance of getting the harvest stashed away as quick as they can. Brea leads Rian to the carts. Rian noses through them, looking at each sort of crop and food item brought from Ha’rar. “Do you want to see the books too?” Brea asks. Rian really wants to say no, but he just can’t do that to his friend. “Oh sure.” He nods. Brea drags him over to the cart she and Rek’yr filled with everything she insisted they take to Stone-in-the-Wood. Rian leafs iddly through a few books before he spots the pile of dresses. “Are these yours?” He abandons the books for the dresses. Brea shakes her head. “Those on top are Seladon’s, I figures she would like some of her own clothes.” She says. “And this one was Tavra’s.” She tugs at a sleeve sticking out of the pile. “I wish I could have known your sister better.” Rian offers. Brea hugs him tightly. “Thank you.” She mutters. She burries her face into his chest and begins to cry. Rian embraces her and humms gently and soothingly to her. 

Rian sets everyone who is not occupied with preparing for the festivities on unpacking the wagons. Rek’yr an Brea busy themselves with the cart of books. Most of the books they store in Rek’yr’s cottage. The dresses Brea brings to the cottage she shares with Seladon. She finds her sister there.   
Seladon is pouring over stacks of papers. “Do you have a moment?” Brea asks. Seladon looks up, spotting her sister with a lot of dresses in her arms. “Brea, what are you doing?” She asks. “I brought you some of your dresses, from Ha’rar.” Brea says cheerfully. “You shouldn’t have.” Seladon says. “Yes I should, they make you happy.” Brea giggles. She puts the dresses down on Seladon’s divan. “I also brought my own dresses, a few, not all. And Tavra’s least favourite. The one she looked so good in, for Onica.” She cooes. Seladon can’t help a smile.   
Brea hands Seladon Tavra’s dress. It is silver and Mother of Pearl pink. “Oh….” Seladon gasps. Tears roll down her cheeks. “Tavra looked so wonderful in this dress.” She whispers. “She did.” Brea agrees. She hugs Seladon tightly.   
The two sisters pour over Seladon’s dresses for a while. Seladon fingers at a night blue dress for so long, Brea insists she puts it on. “I remember this one, you got it for your last nameday.” She says. Seladon spins in a circle. “Do you think Maurix will like this dress?” She asks. “One way to find out.” Brea cooes. “Are you saying what I think you are saying?” Seladon asks. “Wear it at the feast tonight.” Brea grins broadly at her sister. 

Seladon wears her midnight blue dress that night. Maurix is waiting for her by the door of her cottage. “My Lady.” He gives a curt bow and offers her his arm. Seladon takes it and smiles at him. “You look stunning, Seladon.” Maurix whispers, leaning in to press his lips close against Seladon’s ear. The Vapra flusters.   
Rek’yr approaches. He is garbed in breezy storm cloud purple and sheer cloths so blue it is almost black. Only his leggings, which can be seen through his robe, are jet black. “Oh my Thra, you look…” Brea can’t find the right words. “As do you, my love.” Rek’yr says. Brea is wearing a splendid silvery blue dress with long drooping sleeves. She flusters a little. Rek’yr offers her his arm. “Shall we?” He cooes. Brea happily takes the Dousan by the arm. “We shall.” She says.   
Rek’yr leads Brea towards the festivities. Seladon sends him a sour look, which he of course misses, because they are walking away from her. “What is the issue?” Maurix asks. “He is a Dousan.” Seladon huffs. “And I am a Sifan.” Maurix retrotts. “That is different.” Seladon says pointedly. Maurix keeps his tongue. Now is not the time to discuss this.

The Spritons are making fires and the Drenchen are setting up the large tressle tables. They are already singing. The Spriton sing upbeat songs about the harvest and the Drenchen their songs of Sog. The festive tone is already set.   
More and more gelfling come to the town square. Everyone is chattering to everyone. Rian smiles when he sees how well the clans intermingle. He goes over to Kylan, to give him a hand with putting big bowls of lavish dishes on the tables. Kylan smiles gently at him. “The harvest is bountiful, despite the blight.” He says. Rian nods.   
More hands help with the setting of the table. Fragrant roasts and scrumptious arrangements of vegetables, alongside steaming hot bread and pitchers of juices, ale, wine and tea are brought out. Everyone finds themselves a place to sit, talking happily to each other. Childlings run to and fro, laughing loudly. The mood is really setting in now. 

“Gelfling!” Rian stands at the head of the largest table. Everyone falls silent and looks at him. “Today we celebrate the harvest of Ha’rar.” Rian calls out. Everyone cheers loudly. “Feast, sing and dance, in honour of what Thra gave us in this harvest!” Rian yells. All the gathered gelfling cheer even louder. “Hurray for the harvest!” Rian raises his glass of mead. Seladon rises, raising her glass fo wine. “Hurray.” She says in a loud and clear voice. “Hurray, Hurray, hurray!” Everyone raises their cups and glasses.   
Soon everyone is eating and chattering and drinking. The Drenchen who went to Ha’rar are loudly discussing the stark differences between their home and the abandones capitol. Especially the Vapra listen keenly. The Spriton that have seen Ha’rar seem much keener to discuss the harvest. For that the Stonewood are more than willing to lend their ear.  
The farmer Allonys is talking with a couple of other farmers, who stayed behind in Stone-in-the-Wood. He speaks highly of the Drenchen that helped him with the harvest. The other farmers listen with some slightly disbelieve. They look to Tirzan with his pierced ears and dark purple flowers braided into his sog coloured locks. They find it hard to believe that such a Drenchen can take orders so easily. 

After dinner, the dishes are gathered in tubs and set aside, that is a chore for tomorrow. The tables are moved to the side to make room for the dancing. The bonfires are build and lit and gelfling dash off to retrieve instruments and toys.   
The entire hustle and bustle is over before Gurjin has been able to round up all the childlings. The musicians are forming teams and so do the songtellers. Kylan is at the helm of the largest team. He is beaming with pride. He decides he will sing the song of Jara-Jen and The Hunter. A clever victory if there ever was one.  
Gurjin has managed to wrangle all the childlings by the time the music and songs have started. He stations them in a circle around Kylan and the team of junior songtellers. Kylan begins the song. The childlings are captivated right away. Even Gurjin, who sits in the midst of the children, listens in awe. Dell’M sits on his shoulders and three little Stonewoods have squeezed themselves in his lap. Bobb’N leans into his side. 

And of course with the childlings occupied, the adults have time to themselves. Some sit by the bonfires to talk, while others dance. The talk is mostly about shared or differing cultural aspects and is very amicable. Gelfling learn from each other. Rian and Brea are both very gladdened to see that there is no longer any animosity between the clans. 

Tirzan stands a little to the side. The dances are mostly Spriton and Sifan, dances he doesn’t know. He is a little uncomfortable with the frolicking so unlike the Drenchen dances he is used to. But he’s spotted a gelf he does want to dance with. She is a tall Vapra, with a slight pink hue to her silver hair.   
Tirzan startles when someone places a hand on his shoulder. “Ask her to dance. The worst she can do is say no.” It is Koora. “Oh please.” Tirzan rolls his eyes. “A little bit of rejection never hurt anyone, don’t be such a chum.” Koora slaps him on the shoulder and saunters off. Tirzan groans to himself. And then he takes heart.  
The Vapra looks at him when he stands text to him. “Wana dance?” He asks. “I don’t dance.” She replies. “Nonsense.” Tirzan chuckles. “I have seen how you Drenchen dance.” She scoffs. “Where have you seen a Drenchen dance?” Trizan frowns at her. “At the castle, we had a few in the guard.” Is her reply. “Then show me how the Vapra dance.” Tirzan is not budging. The gelf looks at him, her eyes narrowed. “My mother taught me to dance before my father taught me how to wield sword and spear. I hated every minute of it.” She says. “We can dance another way, not Drenchen or Vapra. We could dance our own way.” Tirzan smirks, barking his tusks. The gelf bares hers. The Vapra tusks are smaller and smoother than the Drenchen.   
Tirzan recognises the expression as not that much of a smile. “How about you tell me your name first?” He says gently. The gelf swallows a lump in her throat and heaves a sigh. “My name is Zefir.” She replies. Tirzan smiles at her. “Nice to meet you Zefir, I am Tirzan.” He says. Zefir’s ears droop a little. 

Tirzan reaches for Zefir’s hand. She does not draw away. He tangles his fingers with her own. There is a dreamfast teasing the palm of his hand, but he does not sink in to it. He only glimpses Zefir running through vast empty halls from a great shadowy figure. Suddenly he feels very sorry for her. He rubs his thumb over her knuckles. “You are safe here, you know that right?” He murrs. Zefir gives him a wide eyed look. “I glimpsed something when our palms touched.” Tirzan admits. Zefir looks away from him.   
“Let’s just say it would have been wiser for me to wear the dresses my mother sown me rather than the swordbelt my father made.” She says. “But you don’t like dresses.” Tirzan concludes. Zefir shakes her head. “Never did.” She whispers. “You don’t need a dress to dance though.” Tirzan winks. Zefir gives him a look. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Tirzan pulls her to the other dancers. “I might never forgive you this. “ Zefir says. “I don’t need you to.” Tirzan replies gently. That earns him a smile from Zefir. Tirzan smiles back encouragingly. 

They dance, or at least by Grottan terms they do. Close together they sway on the music, holding on to each other. Zefir leans her chin on Tirzan’s shoulder. She inhales his earthy scent, finding he sort of smells like Thra. It puts her at ease for the first time since she found out Tolyn had ratted the revolting guards out to the Skeksis.


End file.
